Hit Title Date Added
Lullaby In Blue
The child takes her first journey
through the inner blue world of her mother's body,
blue veins, blue eyes, frail petal lids.
Fog dense as a bed sheet hung at the window,
and through that white blindness come
the eerie cries of cows moaning in the field
Bass Line
He needs a bigger body, bull fiddle
to make that thump, that deeper pulse, he needs
Wharves with their warehouses sagging
on wooden slats, windows steamed up
and beaded with rain—it's a wonder
Sex Ed
Well-dressed, demure, jammed into those
politely arranged desks, it's hard to be
serious, but we are. No one even parts lips
to acknowledge what used to drive us crazy
Doing Time
They call me Babe and make a kissing noise
from inside their bars and inside their rage.
Most of them are men, though they act like boys
Back With The Quakers
You think you can handle these things:
sunlight glinting off a red Jaguar
honking at the old woman who has snagged
A Song In There
To stave off trouble, the old bluesmen are singing,
without a doubt, singing-on doorsteps, in bare yards
with folding chairs tipsy on tree roots. No tape rolling,
Gulls In The Wind
Bedraggled feathers like bonnets
that would fly off if they weren't strapped,
kazoo voiced, a chorus of crying dolphins
Latcho Drom
Nowhere to nest, to rest their heads,
like starlings scattered by gunshot—

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6/22/2021 1:29:06 PM #