Joe Walsh

Not the guy from the Eagles whose

Life's been good to him so far

Joe Walsh from Boston

Who played in the majors

Got eight at-bats

Got injured

Went to work for the city

Started to drink

Lost the job

Stumbled through the years

In a black suit coat

In an Atlantic Ocean haze

Who met my grandma

At the laundromat the store the bus stop

While he still had that Boston charm

But was a brokedown cigar smoke mess

When I met him in Brookline in '78

You could look him up

In the Baseball Encyclopedia, he said

I did and it was true

I walked down the street

To a tropical fish store

It was dark inside

And cold from the AC

The only light

The blue glowing

Above the tanks

Of the silent swimming

Coral pink

Electric violet

Deep black fish

With fierce fan tales

Likes the assassin's silk scarves

That float and dazzle

Before the dagger is drawn

The two-chord piano vamp

From "Cold as Ice"

Came over the speakers

And the notes felt in my body

Like dayglo fish

Fluttering beside

A ceramic sea chest

Joe Walsh played third base

At Fenway Park

The Green Monster looming

Behind him

The giant Citgo sign

Hovering above

That could not be

I thought

Not knowing then

I would injure my arms

That played guitar

When I was just 23

The other Joe Walsh

Flamed through the years

Driving 185

And taking drugs

That illuminated

The capillaries of his mind

Like fluorescent blue lamps over

Bubbling tanks of circling fish

Pearl colored and gliding

The size of guitar pics