Teeth are the most existential of all bones

“The only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk,

 mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or

 say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn, like fabulous yellow roman candles

exploding like spiders across the stars and in the middle you see the blue centerlight pop

and everybody goes "Awww!” - Jack Kerouac 

Today I was informed of a death.  The death of a gentle and mad soul.  “Angel Mark’ use to hang out in front of the coffee shop we frequented as misfit teens.  When we  would sit on the dirty pavement in tattered jeans smoking cigarettes and talking about books he would hand us newspaper to sit on.  He would tell us the angel’s spoke to him and told him things about us.  That they watched over us.  With that crazed look in his eye, his scruffy beard, and his clumsy shuffle he would stare at you for a few moments before one of his spiritual comments. “Teeth are the most existential of all bones”.

I remember the first time I played a show in the patio behind the coffee shop.  I didn't see Angel Mark there, I'm still not sure he ever came but the next day he asked me how I had learned to play and told me that the angels didn't want me to stop making music.  He said I would find my spiritual twin through my music and that  was all I needed to be happy.

Granted he may have had a few screws loose and most of the time his mumbling gibberish didn't make much sense, but many of the phrases that I ignored at the time have actually stuck with me.  He was one of those background characters that are profoundly interesting from a distance and their absence is heavily noted.

Angel Mark. I'm not sure what it is I learned from you but I will carry it with me and I hope you are happy living with the angels you told us so much about.