Uncle Jack, when i look back,
sent a lot down to me. my mom would say we both seemed
to be the life of the party.
he was a picker, and a drinker.
he took one step over the edge.
a drinker, and he ended up with some debt i guess.
nobody knows what really happened.
the river was swollen when they found him in it,
and it rained all weekend on the bridge leaving town.
this is how i see it. this is not something i was told.
i envisioned it to be dark,
wet, and cold. if he jumped,
or if he fell, no one knows.
but ive got a different picture for each one of those.
i was a baby. and we never really met,
its really sad, i guess. he was a musician,
just like his nephew and if he couldve i wouldve wanted
him to teach me. but all i ever got from him,
Uncle Jack, was his need to stop drinking.