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it was wednesday

& the wagtail blues

& bebop doos

fell like porcelain

from an angel’s wings

 

hipster crooners

who clung to rags

like oxygen needles

danced on glass feet

stomping at the gin bar

& smoking leaves

of fortitude stripped

from a sandbox of lies

 

we waited for a taxi

while the moon bled jazz

over the new york sidewalk

insects laughed

at the show

mingling with saxophones

of stone

& now?

 

do you do do the new move

cloaked in ageless slipstreams

in the rat tat of hep cat culture

does your coffee pour whiskey

into your mind’s cool blue fixtures

when your pen punctures pages

& when will you rest?

 

& is this a test?

 

historic light unsheathed

like a blade

to cut your arms

spill the blood

of fathers

like your blood

will be spilled by your sons

& what of your sons

do they float in spoons

in precious powder

crushed from the dragon’s bone

the flame licks the steel

orange blue lights appeal

flick flickering images

in rolled eyes of

tangelo tint

 

when the spike pushes in

what does it take out?

 


Published in The Diamond & the Thief (Black Rider Press), September 2010

An audio recording of this poem (with The Minordian) can be found here…