January 26, 2013

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 ©

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