One Night at Java Joe’s
Fourteen claps, spangled, bald, hopeless:
Fine Young Cannibal commander speaks.
This time he speaks! He says “go ask the
City fathers for a new parade.
Go cry eleven years down the drain!”
Piss on the flowers that keep it colored;
Color the wins that loosen your life
So you can get back on the road.
Sometimes the talk is so good you
Forget to play. You play so hard; so
Much rehearsing for so little play.
So, even though the Jeffreys still
Complain about the three-month crabs:
Is there enough plaid to cover the
Chains that persist through heroin eyes?
When the bird falls dead, you cry.
When the $3.50 bouquet wilts
You clutch small foreign coins and die.
Don’t die now, don’t die now!
Copyright, Doug Stuber, 1997. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given, and with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.