Ole planned
to go


to Las Vegas
but he didn't make it


his untimely death
got in the way


(such are the plans
of mice and men


they say)
he even noted it


on his
Face Book page


in passing


as if
a whole clear road


was visible ahead
(now he's dead)


but I can can see him
now in spirit


making his
own way there


taking in
the bright lights


the neon signs
the shows


to be seen
(getting in for free too


what a Mutley laugh
that will bring)


and Ole
in his black hat


and coat and shirt
and dark shades


making his way
at his own


slow pace
around the casinos


his ghostly hand
pulling a few arms


of one armed bandit


while the punters
look on


shit witless
as the arm


goes down
again and again


or in the other games
I can see you


taking your own part
your sense


of gamble and fair play
wandering the tables


ghostly whispering


(in your quiet voice
being nice)


having a cool beer
at the bar


or Jim Beam
or Jameson


if they've got it
you sitting there


the barman unaware
you there


taking in
the whole scene


the big shows
the bright lights


neon signs
wish I


could go there
with you


walk at your side
sharing a beer


or whiskey
a soft conversation


or that special silence
we often shared


when words
weren't needed


where the bond
was strong


go to Vegas my son
go to Las Vegas Ole


take in
the whole scene


of Vegas fun
my departed son.

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