she let me put my hands on her head...

they could not afford a piano player but the waitress was a vagrant elegance

her name was ribbon candy with the red light on

I had just finished my shift and was enjoying

the sights and sounds of the clanks and creaks

of a din filled cabaret-esque corner dive

I heard the bartender say she was

in with the laudanum gang tonight

and capable of unworldly transmissions

he told me to ask for a discount

or to look for satisfaction

behind the other parts of her glass

tonight she would be

a sugary reminder that sometimes

ghosts turn our pages to tell little stories

between language and expression

constant frequencies buzz through a jukebox

whooping yells cranked from large hollow wooden speakers

they are decorated with paper signs, highlighting

they have fried foods for less than a dollar still

but all I see is her hard wired push up  

it is just luck that all of our senses

beyond the primordial five

understand vignette spliced movies

are silhouetted signal flag currencies

caught or not by chance and decision

we see clever is the devil’s domain

the tight tricks words play with societies

turning elements into animals

and turning them inside to out

skin in, bleeding organs out

the dust song mechanics of time

are spooled here, waiting to be

off loaded in a predetermined rendezvous

she looked dazed

as if she were gazing

into smoke to see

outside of linear attachment

she started talking

in a detached voice

she said her name was Three Fingers Brown once

and she was a baseball player

played for the Cubs, mostly

was a farmer’s son named Mordecai

didn’t need war to lose fingers

she stood and began throwing imaginary 12-6 curveballs

uncle Charlie was my invention, she said

ain’t never saw that it was right to claim something

with words when action said it best, though

I just like baseball she said

and I suppose me being retired in the 1920’s

with some coin in my pockets

let me burn, drown, fly and dig myself early

into a place like this right here…

so she turns, her voice becomes clear

and erotically discernible

to my belly and loins

her eyes become 

as bright as nova

they bat

wait to be seen

what will it be mister

a meatball sub

or something sweet

while you stand looking ?...

EJR ©