When he was a lil Keef,
way before the Stones,
he had a little white mouse
named Gladys. He kept her
in his pocket, brought her
to school and fed her
from his lunch and dinner.
In his autobio he wrote that
“Gladys was true and trusted,”
which is more than can be said
for some so-called humans
from his or any other
life.
Well, his mother killed the
little mouse, and Keith
“never forgave her for that.”
And it’s nice to know that
on some balloon-filled
stadium stage somewhere
in the world
under all that
tough-guy swagger
and bravado rolls
a pretty sweet
soul.
–by Fyodor Bukowski Read his IndieReader-Approved novel: MAIL-ORDER ANNIE (a Story of Passion and Compassion) *ALL proceeds go towards feeding and “fixing” homeless cats. (Proof available upon serious inquiry)
