Tuesday, August 16, 2011

Faux You Jam

You finally get home
and, wait, hold the phone,
while you're listening to Chrome,
balanced on the porcelain throne
you start to get stoned, man

your lover's hands
a Godiva chocolate factory
Concupiscent band jam
all night, just flam-blam!
no "Thank you, Ma'am"

Salami with cheez
Cocked back with a slow jam
in the back seat all,
"Wait. Where do we go, man?"

Drinking cheap champagne
out of broken flutes
and your cupped hands

Not afraid to lose again
so close to no-man's-land
At least there's some bravery
in attempting to crash land

Gittin' all cream corn savory
in your own private glam scam

your Karen Finley pockets
weeping desiccated peaches
and overripe yams
Plucked with your own dirty fingers
from those tiny tiny cans

I just can't seem to grasp it,
can't understand--
Can't get my rotten mind
around it, but you can?

Swinging from the dark trees
you jumped to the bandstand
your bare feet on the stage
trumpet gripped in your one good hand

you played that one tune
slow and luscious
quiet quiet storm
y'all be "Damn!" damned

it was well-played
all your own
like Betty's kid Bam-Bam

All One Love
and Keep keepin' on
like I know you can,
Yes you can can

We all could use some lovers
with them slow hands

3 comments:

  1. Anonymous11:36 PM

    "you played that one tune
    slow and luscious
    quiet quiet storm
    y'all be "Damn!" damned "

    Ohhhhh delicious. Thanks SB

    ReplyDelete
  2. Nice imagery on this one.

    ReplyDelete
  3. "your Karen Finley pockets
    weeping desiccated peaches
    and overripe yams
    Plucked with your own dirty fingers
    from those tiny tiny cans"... VERY evocative of something, i know not what, but still loved by me all the same...

    ReplyDelete