power of h Weblog

Tom Waits always seemed old to me. His voice was old. Raspy and tarnished like Dylan’s voice is now. But then I saw a picture of Waits as a kid and I realized I knew him. He was the kid next door. The one who walked around the neighbourhood on stilts and peaked in people’s windows. And he always smoked. Like it was the cigarette that was singing and Waits was his dummy. But he’s a great talent. And I’ve loved him like the aunt who we used to visit in Baltimore. And who used to hug me so tight in her big bosom.