A Poem and a Painting for my Grandson Simon Devol

Advise to My Grandson

If you’re a man,

Even the tight, green bud of a man,

You’ve got to love the snake

And embrace the skull.

You’ve got to check into

The Motel Diablo,

Shoot craps at the crossroads,

And light a candle for El Maximo.

Whisper in San Simon’s pink plaster ear,

“No tengo miedo, cabron, No tengo miedo.”

Blow cigar smoke in his face.

Leave him a tumbler of Havana Club.

If you’re a man,

Even the tight, green bud of a man,

You gotta fight the devil everyday.

Let me Polonify your skinny ass.

Remember, "The soft and the pliable will defeat the hard and strong."

If you fight him head on,

You’ll get hog tied, up a creek, flat on your back.

T’ia chi the fucker,

Yin and then yang his shiny red behind.

High five him, buy him a beer, put an arm around his shoulder.

You call the shots.

Then,

Then,

Walk away.

If you’re a man,

Even the tight green bud of a man,

Then,

Then,

You can walk the dog,

Rock the cradle,

Go round the world,

Learn to dance in three languages.

Kiss your best buddy smack on the lips.

Play air guitar like Johnny B. Good and Jumping Jack Flash.

Let your heart break while singing,

“I couldn’t sleep a wink for trying.

I saw the rising of the sun.

All night long my heart was crying

You’re the one, You’re the one, You’re the one.”

And then…