A Friend Left Dead in a Desert.



We found his boots in our coat closet two days later.

His name was Quincy...

We called him Q.

Q was a 19 year old community college student who worked part time doing electrical repairs for the gas company.

Q introduced me to Hendrix-

All Along the Watchtower and Hey Joe.

We didn't understand-90s suburb kids that we were-

and thought Q was a little weird...

But something about the way he insisted this other weird man had something to say, made us listen-until the weird psychedelic chords untangled into a magical consciousness.

Q played guitar too, and like his idol, was dead too soon.

But like those strung up before...you know the ones..in those black and white photos where children cheer the dead, charred black bodies-

Q dared to receive the affections of the forbidden white fruit...

They found him in the desert.




Execution style in the back of his head.

And now every time I hear Hendrix... I remember Q's empty boots

At the bottom of the coat closet.


Poem by Lori Walkington, Professor of Sociology at CSU San Marcos

Art by Jason Luper

Lori wrote this poem before I painted "Violence is for Everyone" however, she said they fit together nicely. The poem is not a work of fiction.

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