Don’t Know, but Now I Know Mr. Sullivan.

A man by the name Mr. Sullivan rode me to work today.

Not in a car, not by train, Mr. Sullivan rode a bike.

He placed my body in the front basket and we went on our way.

He rode to work every day, on his bike.

Three miles there, Three miles back.

Today I rode with Mr. Sullivan to work.

He shared stories of love, hate and horrible beers. 

A nice soul he sure was, he handed me a cigarette.

We shared laughs and bug bites.

The cigarette reminded me of the blues in the 70s

And the bar where my Mother met me for the first time.

Today I know where Mr. Sullivan came from.

I learned how to love all men, and where to buy the best beer.

The way his skinny lips hit each other after every laugh.

He brings me back to days where I used to breathe and love.

He remained my best friend until his dog died.