UnSquare
Ex-Bluelighter
"Um, can I come inside...?"
"Door's open."
Door swings two-thirds,
man enters,
smokin'.
"Hear those birds?
Do you ever wonder what they jus' spoken'?"
Jake sings under his breath,
"Blackbird",
Stan's dentures,
shift,
pokin',
with his tongue,
readujustin',
open
gums
(self conscious? who want's a lisp be jokin'?
15 G in tha hole
5 in dent. stokin'.)
Stan tries to whistle.
Stubs his Camel,
thick fingered,
straight down,
missile-like,
glowin' embers strike
the remainin' 'shells'
of thought & more of less that propels
butts inna Victorian A-Tray,
(boring , but yes, the smoke drifts away...)
but one thought in thirty has come to fruition,
or in this house
affray.
"It took 15 rounds...
stubborn, silly, grey...
he wouldn't go down,
no easy pray,
Fuck,
Jake,
nearly hadta get an Auto outtta tha trunk,
some des/pos/picable 'k',
or an Ingram 10,
pull a 1.somethink sec-spray ."
Jake looks around at the room,
feels his other,
envelope on delivery,
sittin',
all "READY TO GIVE SOON"
to the silvery slum slug down'p'layer
(who was nicer than him,
twas not neithers desire")
Stan asks for a seat,
he's off'd one at once,
an' Jake shuffles in dressin'-gown,
gather payment,
whilst Stan gets a spoon.
Makes himself coffee,
Jake take's quite a while,
but at 7.38 A.M.,
that jus' THE way,
meant,
the style.
Jake never returns with the 'v'elope
of cash -
A piece of Stan's half',
his skull,
floats on a Styx flow of Caf.
An' now Eddie & Mario walk full down the stairs.
"Get this mut outta here",
shouts Jake with a laugh,
an' nobody cares.
"Door's open."
Door swings two-thirds,
man enters,
smokin'.
"Hear those birds?
Do you ever wonder what they jus' spoken'?"
Jake sings under his breath,
"Blackbird",
Stan's dentures,
shift,
pokin',
with his tongue,
readujustin',
open
gums
(self conscious? who want's a lisp be jokin'?
15 G in tha hole
5 in dent. stokin'.)
Stan tries to whistle.
Stubs his Camel,
thick fingered,
straight down,
missile-like,
glowin' embers strike
the remainin' 'shells'
of thought & more of less that propels
butts inna Victorian A-Tray,
(boring , but yes, the smoke drifts away...)
but one thought in thirty has come to fruition,
or in this house
affray.
"It took 15 rounds...
stubborn, silly, grey...
he wouldn't go down,
no easy pray,
Fuck,
Jake,
nearly hadta get an Auto outtta tha trunk,
some des/pos/picable 'k',
or an Ingram 10,
pull a 1.somethink sec-spray ."
Jake looks around at the room,
feels his other,
envelope on delivery,
sittin',
all "READY TO GIVE SOON"
to the silvery slum slug down'p'layer
(who was nicer than him,
twas not neithers desire")
Stan asks for a seat,
he's off'd one at once,
an' Jake shuffles in dressin'-gown,
gather payment,
whilst Stan gets a spoon.
Makes himself coffee,
Jake take's quite a while,
but at 7.38 A.M.,
that jus' THE way,
meant,
the style.
Jake never returns with the 'v'elope
of cash -
A piece of Stan's half',
his skull,
floats on a Styx flow of Caf.
An' now Eddie & Mario walk full down the stairs.
"Get this mut outta here",
shouts Jake with a laugh,
an' nobody cares.
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