I was driving down the three-lane parkway to work when I came up on a funeral procession. They were snaking along in the middle lane. Every car with their lights on in the day. Headlights in the day tend to give me an eerie feeling. Those round unnatural lights beneath the sun. I had on a classical music station and between that grandiose crap and the fancy funeral procession I’d had enough. I lit a new cigarette with the butt of my old one and floored the 15 year-old compact car, passing the death procession at about 90 miles per hour in the fast lane. At the same time I spun the dial of the radio, tuning it from the symphony to a station that was playing just a deep voice and a guitar. It was Johnny Cash. It was what I needed.

I was outrunning death in my car with a fresh cigarette dangling out of my mouth and my man Johnny Cash singing ‘Rusty Cage,’ a Soundgarden cover, from his 1996 ‘Unchained’ record. His deep voice was booming out of the old speakers like Whitman’s "barbaric yawp." When he sings a line like, "Hits like a Phillips head into my brain," you know this man feels it. I remember once when I was younger this friend, a big guy named Tom Bush, got beaten up outside of a bar and he was bleeding all over. His shoes were filled with blood. When we got to him he refused help. He just staggered home, got into bed and lay there. A friend of mine said, "Shouldn’t we get him to the hospital. He might die." Another friend said, "Guys like that don’t die that easy." That’s what I feel when I hear his voice. It’s like steamroller going over you. It’s unstoppable. He sings and plays his way out from behind rusty cage bars. He’s what you'd call a true warrior bard.

Rob Plath has one book of published poems called ‘Ashtrays and Bulls’ (2003 1st place winner of Nerve Cowboy's chapbook contest). His work has featured in journals and magazine internationally. He was part of a spoken word/music CD ‘Northport Celebrates Jack’ (a Kerouac tribute) featuring world famous musician David Amram. He was also a student of Allen Ginsberg's for two years. To read a selection of his poems on the showcase section of this site, click here.

© 2007 Laura Hird All rights reserved.