|
Poems by Dan Sicoli
across the street from the bluenote
voodoo night excites you on
your way to a blues engagement and
a burning for that booming bass
in a three-piece called the excellos
and from the parking lot
henry shadows you with brown bag beer
and lewis carrol dialect
you can't shake this stubborn flea
at the door of marshall's
a $2.00 cover becomes
the wall of china
your kinship to him ends
while you tune up the strat
old henry's eyes bop up and down
through the window
you half smile and tip your vodka to him
he tries to charm the doorman
but steroid floyd cusses him
and henry is faced
to search out another victim
you're on your third vodka
and the boys decide there's enough
audience to start it up
so you kick back your hair
stuff a glowing cigarette between machineheads
and call a four-count into the mike
that beat and bass line boom
as fingers find notes
on your guitar to go with lyrics like
"i work hard for my baby but she's got just one bad quirk
every time i turn my back she's off with another jerk
i hold these bullets tightly
for fear i'll put them in my gun
yes, i hold these bullets so tightly
for fear they'll end my baby's fun..."
(Appeared in Postcards Con Carne)
©2003 Dan Sicoli
Back to Poetry Home
|
