Wow, you definately knew Dickie.Beverly the Iron and Arthur the Hook.....here's a poem about Dickie:
The hook. The iron. The knife.
Each for Dickie had a life.
The hook was Arthur, his closest friend.
Twisted hands to lips, a kiss and then
to Beverly his iron tied to a line
and dangled down above the swelling brine
to iron out the the surfer's waves.
A measure of mad Dickie's rage
with all who gathered there to mock
his antic dancing, his crazy talk.
But worse than mocking was the fear
in Dickies eyes when, drawing near
someone asshole with a tiny life
would produce a pocket knife
and call to Dickie, knowing he'd go wild
and scream, "No knife! No knife!, a frightened child
reaching for his hook to kiss and prayŚ
anything to keep that knife at bay.
A dream brings him back, I hear that cry,
"No knife, no knife!" and realize that I
am still the same coward, standing silent
neither resisting, not quite compliant
as the insanity rages far and near
as it did out there on Seal Beach pier.
Great poem that fully describes what we all saw of him.
Someone told me he was hit by a car and killed some years ago.
Are you from Seal Beach?