Rat in a drain ditch, caught on a limb, you know better but I know him.
Like I told you, what I said, steal your face right off your head.
— Grateful Dead, “He’s Gone”
So, Jerry, since I delivered one of you grateful men’s babies
dead back of that shitty flatbed truck up on the Russian River
— preemie appeared so bad someone whispered it looked
like a rat which another’d eaten half of the face off — we’ve
gone our separate ways since Menlo Park Kesey days.
Hey, man — moi was just a duffus Stanford med student tryin’
my best as the band’s families and hangers-on worked hard
yearning to get everybody high stupidly including me, thusly
who the fuck’s minding its mom’s goddamn labor — now I hide
out in furnace rooms, catch rats size of brown bears for food.