Nightclub

Sing them blank blues,

let ’em
freshen, spring up.
Bubble smoke along
the edges of your mouth.

Trill it.

Stink up the air fat
and lovely, bone-in
gristle and rib-sticky.

Chart uncharted,
croon siren chin up in the shallows,
trace the deep in rogue wave,
take the foolish sailor
overboard.

Step out and light up
in a parking lot
full of compensation
and small fights, laughter
of night time forgotten battles.

Back inside,
blank blue beckons again…

spitting demon,
choral angel, something beyond you.
It’s wet, sweat flinging war up here.

Go for it…
on a good night,
God sits in.  All that smoke,
incense to the altar.  Ticket
written, punched, cloud full of
fixing to be done.  PLAY —

get us out of our way.