Sunday, June 24, 2012

Blow Heart Wine

Give me a break
The ache I bear
are horns in my head

Two o'clock on a weeping morn

I am tears married to a trombone,
gold braided woman,
her womb my spittle mouthpiece.


Two fifteen on a rainy morn

Me, the damsel's drunkard sailor,
our song, "Hold Tight Through The Jostle"
On the scale, two slides forward, one slide back.

Two thirty in street lamp dawns

I dizzy down St. Nicholas Avenue,
cavern bound, the gig's last solo
a bouncing ball over St John The Cathedral


Three sharp, I've been orphan and altar boy

You got soul, give me a break.
I'm a hole in the wall
no way out.


Three thirty, I look in the frig like a glance at the morgue

I play jazz on organ and in pews
I plays blues, three proofs darker 
than you could ever drink or wallow

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