Sunday, January 09, 2011

poem: play the rounds

platypus blues got you
rockin the casbah

empty dismal pepto

bismol days play

the rounds of fury

it's a kinder/gentler

bambino we're after here,

little franz, take your

Amerika all the way back

to bourbon bronx

oenophiles, regale yourselves

with all the psalms

at your disposal

cry a big rio

segue the rest

to the jonesy

midnights you reckoned

beyond your beck

this Faneuil hall

of cats in the early days

splendid Kansas City

barbecue, miles dithering

the holy cherokee out

of bird, two havens

for the smiley twins

of inactivity, jil sings

down the rest in

her radiant chorus,

it ain't the after she's

after, she wants it now,

the fistful of dollars

ain't for the takin, she

gathers the rest

down the bosom highway,

gallivanting little

heifers all in they


Big Bib city





Blogger Dee Martin said...

cry a big rio - must be some spicy barbecue, all the heifers rubbed down and now you are needing pepto bismol. I'm sure there is more going on than bbq (with a little wine of course) no after kinda person myself - impatience always wants the right now and this had a great rhythm for gallivanting.

We are having a snow day tomorrow. Spent the day in front of the fireplace, watching it fall. Gorgeous stuff though I will hate making up that day on a Saturday in April...

9:38 PM  
Blogger Teresa said...

This is a sensuous and delicious piece of bbq ribs. Loved it all, although I'm not sure I wanted to follow that voluptuous highway down under the bib...

1:25 AM  
Blogger murat11 said...

Dee: Snow day sounds wonderful, even with the April Saturday payback, chintzy admin folks.

7:57 PM  
Blogger murat11 said...

Teresa: I see you're watching out for the street signs . . .

7:58 PM  

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