Final Words

From: Roger Blakely
To: TERRY simons
Sent: Wed, March 10, 2010 9:19:22 PM
Subject: Re: Doomsday

Terry,

I should be there sooner than I had hoped.
I just got a three (count 'em 3) day notice on the door to pay, or be out on the fourth day.
I was expecting a 30 day notice. Motherfuckers.

No wonder the news is filled with stories of people just going ballistic.

If I can get up there I will be there by Sunday.
Otherwise, I will be here on the streets.
Which is a bit of an unpleasant thought, being that I have a terrible cold that has settled in my lungs.

Anyway, I will either be saying hello to you, or Michael Marantic, later in the week.

Preparing for Doomsday,

Rog


Roger W. Blakely III did not make it to Portland. My good friend died crossing I-5 near Albany, Oregon, likely hitchhiking, March 22nd. I just found out yesterday.

Michael Marantic was another friend of Roger's who had died the previous month.

This is a very troubling day, friends. Here is one of Roger's final poems:

Untitled

I've been having those feelings
that life was better with music, mystery,
empty bottles, and early morning
poetry festivals from the bottom
of the drunk tank floor.

I do reserve the right to be lost at any time.
So that I never need to be frightened,
I carry at all times
on my person
a small unseaworthy sailboat,
vast uncharted waters,
the prayers of past generations,
and a category five hurricane.

I tell you, I miss the late night air.

Roger W. Blakely III

Roger was raised in SoCal. He died trying to make it home to Oregon. R.I.P

TS