Waltzing to Lady Bug Jazz Tunes, Twenties Alive Again!!
Nobody swung like
That old duck
That sat down sucking on
Trombone & trumpet/cornet
mouthpieces by gazebos pregnant
With pregnant cats and cat burglars &
Coffee-stained-cross-dressing-fedora-
Wearing virgos masquerading as
Fuzzy breasted Virgins,
Ready for nipping Love in dry rotten
Hammocks.
Listen to the roses ramble,
They sing like Miles.
Don’t stop now, old broads like you quit
Too
Soon,
They smell the mildew & morning frost
Grow like spiny fungus on a canvas
Window, & run away.
July never felt further than it did then,
Your body high and trembling like a
Cliche in my walking stick arms.
Tie me up and make me flail like
Coltranes fingers,
Roll with calluses and umber
identificational spirals (uzumaki man!)
I’m a lady bug, waiting for a boy
With two more dots than I,
Complete me,
Red,
Bareback boy O’ my dreams, fire like boy,
Foam & swim,
Callous my nose,
My sternum,
My navel,
Encrust peppermint lips,
Take me now into railroad woods,
Burden me with unbridled praise,
I am a maple leaf,
Tremble before my chameleon decay.
Why stop now?
I’ll go on swimmingly my
Dear Bosnian beauty,
You with poor taste in music,
Worse in genes,
“Har har”
I’m a REAL womanizer,
Bukowski grow red!
Embarrassed!
I’ve won!
Ha!
Coltrane is chastising me now,
Goddamn
Saxophone.
Posted Mar 1, 2022, 2:23 AM UTC
I’m not sure how to feel about this? It is GOOD, don’t get me wrong; the flow of the poem is particularly entrancing. Depending on how the reader reads it, there is a very compelling rhythm and drive to this poem. Good Stuff :P