Dexter Gordon - Blue Bossa

panther attack

baby i feel good

with this bourbon scotch whisky

running through my veins

and your fingers in my hair

my unreliable eyes

reading the unreliable lies of

a clock across the room

which appears to indicate

it’s bedtime

but baby i’m too drunk to fuck

too drunk for bedtime

and what a waste of sacramental southern spirits

to sleep now

i know, i know there’ll be a headache tomorrow

but right now all i care about

is dancing to the panther

with you

and proving

dexter gordon was right

the sax is god’s instrument

john 'woody' mellor

leather jacket three chord strut

amphetamine amped adrenal gland

fists precede piss and vinegar vitriol

fervent gutter politico posturing

dime a dozen descendents desperately mine

riff and rhythm from the only band that matters

Scene police

Another pink haired punk in my face

telling me what’s what

be careful kid

I was there before you’d ever heard of a Monroe piercing

and if you don’t back off I’ll put my Prince Albert somewhere you won’t like

I do like your hair though

looks like the same shade Kelly Osborn had a few years back

I guess you’re as punk as her

Don’t forget to put on your uniform

before you go to the show tonight

all black head to toe

maybe a little eyeliner if you’re feeling real good

bangs across the eyes

ink and metal in full display

hang a bandana in your back pocket

like this is still DC of the eighties

remember your Marlboro Reds

no menthols or filters tonight

pruning peacock in a boozy zoo

Allow me a little advice I learned awhile back

it’s ok to drop that well practiced bored look for one minute

go head and jump in the pit

we’ll pick you up if you fall down

that’s what we do down here

it’s why people say it’s better in the basement

because we all know each other without having to give names

drop that look for one minute

and have a little fun

The Black Keys - thickfreakness

black key bloody holly northern punk blues

sonic two step

fuzz tone

glass slide

wa wa

swamp hop

52^nd ave.

down chord strut

strummer and th’ wolf

makin’ love to

hat tipped

r-o-b john lovin’

soho dressed

art school hipsters,

hoping not to share in

strychnine straight

whiskey back on ice

dog screamin death

delta chaz and west end john

equal parts sires to

williamsburg watering hole

white boys

with no home in the delta

21st century love story

facebook update

i hate rebecca club

html cornerstone

ca. 2001

IRL proposal

ca. 2008

ring on finger

suitor uncertain

members vetted

via e-mail

her real name’s emily!

engagement annulled

binary breakup

judging eyes

Judging eyes

question

all the way

to the fridge

Is that his

fifth beer?

Does he

need another?

Do I need another?

Didn’t T***y

just check into detox

Maybe I should

pack a pipe

instead

After all

zero studies

show what

every user knows

There are no

addictive qualities

to tea

If

If

my thoughts

are cliché

do

stanzas

make

them

clever?

Muddy Water plays Mannish Boy

Preditor/Editor Awards

Very pleased to announce that MediaVirus Magazine, the publication i co-edit with Lawrence Gladeview, has been nominated for a Preditor/Editor Award in the category of Best Poetry E-Zine. Voting is taking place now until January 14th, so please make your voice heard and let you vote be known!

The Hellhound Would Be Proud

That white girl’s

blues voice

covers

the green eyed crowd

Her honeyed delta thickness

takes us back

to our poor black days

and twelve-bar nights,

spent sky howling

and

back room crawling

Looking out for that devil we dealt with

down those Memphis crossroads

Wishing our blues history

extended past

safe college classrooms

and

warm cubicle wombs

wondering if

The hellhound would be proud

Bukowski black and white

I saw a picture of Charles Bukowski

in the back of his book today

I couldn’t tell if he was smiling or crying

His wife took the picture

I wonder which she thought he was doing

I wonder if there was a difference for him