A Sliver of a Hotel in a Bandleader's Mouth in Parenthesis
Cut the lights!
slice through all the physics and kill the intruder's imprudence
and join me here
join me here.
on my last legs, go figure
stagger and urge the waiver
these were the words of ramblers and fry-cooks
beach bums and cigarette smokers
who wore in last issues of galore
dog collars and diamond embedded chokers
weeping foam where they stepped and where they did not
all I wanted was for my lover to carry me down
so I fell in love with a bucket
it’s cruel and used with a broken handle and holes from buckshot.
and used twice as a giant’s thimble.
hello good Georgia, I heard your throat is clogged -- tough luck
I got a bottle of good port and a bottle of vodka filled with water
and that’s to throw off the coppers
a bag of grass stains on the front porch
with freedom of the last sort.
if you catch me going through life like I was a horse and it was hay
stand back and let me at it
let me gnaw and chew
and spit and swallow
its probably a mistake that I can even move my jaw at all
so don’t alert any of the priests who are working on painting the stable.
I’ve seen their exorcism plan and the leeches and the electrodes they have at their disposal.
silently drank the milk set out by your offer
with a sleeve across my lips
I ripped the evidence and kindly left
when your back was turned looking at the urn
of your late and terrible husband
modesty hides my intentions
and shame tames my affection
but your regal voice pains my ever intuition
deeper down in the wallows where we follow
where we dance and feel a little less hollow I can hear you
Cut the lights!