'I need you
', i said, to the wind that did not whistle. I need you to whistle
through the bark of the morning and set my thoughts a'dancing to the rhythm of the night.
', said I, to the rhythm
of the evening, 'will you play me something soft and slow to ease my waking moments and sleep me with the dewdrops?'
'Sure', she said, as her eyes glazed over with frost. 'I'll betray my father and my name, bard you 'till the sun walks away from the moon and lights over the grass'
'So? Run. There is no ending'
And I am lost upon the dewdrops
, so she said begone and run away. And trying, I left to leap myself over the cataclysmic chasms of distended identity, lost with the riff of lost lifetimes, nightmares
of nights not in clubs
, not tipptapping to keep up with the trumpet and eyeing the strumpet
in the corner
'so', said i, staring at her eyes, 'buy you a drink if you give me a fuck
and she smiled
so I bought her a drink anyway
ran along the bar
, shrinking ourselves to skate on the burnished brass bar
, handstanding on the handholds anchoring it to the bar
, letting ourselves laugh the world to right, sparkling over the sparks made by the lights in the bar
'if this is forever, the band's jiving quite nicely anyway'
'if this be need, I've got no room for nothing anyway'
'why even pretend we're not charmed?'
shimmying shaking jive jiving to all the jakes that jump Jehoshaphat in the end times letting ourselves go to the knowledge
that if there's an end times we're a hell of an accompaniment
upon the antique rifles crossed over the mirror
by the proprietor's son
in World War I
I pulled a flower out of the barrel
, bowed low
she twirled, red skirt
and i kissed
on the nose
just a bit lower
to the trigger
i seeing myself reflected
zoot suit riot
slim trim blue fedora
say to myself
'what a handsome devil'
away with me
i execute a figure
(air is a porous medium; the molecules conveying me to her)
and we whirled
as the air
and the fat cats started smoking old
tripped up the capital
through their smoke rings
'i still owe you a drink i said'
'Straight, no chaser', she said, as the Man with the plan started to toot his horn like nobody's business
('cept ours, i thought in my fedora, being as i tipped him a two buck to hip this tink to my way of thinking)
we curled up in a blown glass boot
Jack Daniel's cup
fitting into the toe
i winked at the waitress
(an old friend from college days)
and let the smoke take me away
going to dancing school
jiving with the atom
s, splitting figures and mixing metaphors
imitating all my styles and
'her lips, like lipstick
' took me out of my reverie
she shot me a look i couldn't help but revere