Thursday, May 6, 2010

sing another song mr cohen

one prayer at a time

and a free pass to go directly to hell

we all have our moments

of weakness

frog tears are my prison

and you must admit

the hawks have heroes too

Mussolini is grieving

while Kublai Kahn shaves in the bar mirror

gild the mornings with shredded cheese

if Simon Legree will agree

gurney the wind

could’ve happened to anyone

color the sand bixbite

if situations complicate



or mow yesterday down with lions

at 45 rpms

we steal warts from princes

we loot and beg pardons for the dead

one push on the way up

just to tear away

just to tip the busted scales

have at it

hot dog bandits will relish the moment

while ticker tape expires

while Daedalus skims the constitution

and grumpy worms get a jump on the birds

we could have symmetry of recycled longings

we could treasure holsters

and tie bandannas over the mouth and nose

scenery smokes cue cards to ash

one lost line at a time

grades get passed

mewls of yes spit back a no

we are just tintypes of fragility mulled with high fructose corn syrup

or wires rusting through roses

there’s palmolive in our gas tank

there’s an infomercial selling our hair and teeth

while a thousand green grapes go splat in our hearts

a steady digital bleat to rouse thyself

hawaiian punching at a fruit’s stripe

in the unreliable narrative of our life

a part of together

a piece of war tugging at an empty sky

we go all in with a pair of nines

we sing into tin cans

don’t play dead while there’s still

a chance of music

there will be plenty



for that