Thursday, March 3, 2011

Distilled Destiny

If angels could disco
and demons could cry,
I'd lay down my bottle
without asking why

but fortune is fickle
as Damacles' sword
and humble menservants
will never be Lord.

When pigs are all Jewish
and Hindu's eat steak
then none of my nightmares
will keep me awake

but oceans are angry,
the sun sleeps in the west,
children will skin knees;
Moms hope they know best.

The fattest of freemen
are still prisoners of fate
so pour me a whiskey
before it's to late.

Joella turned tricks

before I met her
and only
sometimes after
like when she was
mad at me or
maybe herself.
we did dope together
at first but
eventually just drank,
such was our love.
her mother died
to soon, and
father was a monster.
he used her.
and his friends.
finally he set her
on fire with zippo
lighter fluid and
scarred her outside too.
we were hurt;
her as a child
me, less so, by
life and a bad
first marriage
we clung
to each other
like a cobweb
to an out of reach
corner,
such was our love.
we told each
other secrets,
drunk late at night,
sharing tears,
and  fears
and passions.
A fiery sunset
beautiful but
for a moment
then gone,

such was our love.

Communion

Greyhound fresh
with your blues shoes
and backpack
and back home Mama's tears
still  damp
on your cheek.


Sun magic outline
city block stare
bus stop aureole
glowing haloed girl
all flower fresh bloomed
and debit card and blood of the lamb.


Drifting up to you
gently as smoke,
vacating shadows
I take your burden
over my shoulder
all Lucky Strikes and grave dirt
and one third of the stars.


Melancholy moccasins
keeping time with
black, buckled beat boots
to Main Street Liquor
and four fifty pints
on a dirty grey blanket.


And sunset by the river
shoulder to shoulder
beneath celestial ceiling
we share
Pamplona, and Picasso and Paradise Lost
and potted meat.


Crossing our fingers
we fall in love
a little
for the briefest moment in time.


City scape illumination
reflected in
rushing waters
like Vincent's blurry stars.


At dawn
my boots back on
I will walk you again
to a bus stop pilgrimage
to anywhere next
but my quick broken heart
is rooted

to Downtown mornings here
and my favorite bars
on a sidewalked city street
named for Bill.