CRACKHEAD
MRS. CRACKHEAD JOE
Have you ever been in a room where old men in
threadbare suits sing their threadbare hearts out?
Sweat coursing they come up beside you Sweat now
flying into hair +eyes One bold creeper bestows a
bordello scented rose It cannot be packed for the trip
home
Border dogs +guards would howl at the reek of your cheap
carnality And crocodile tears wouldn’t save you from tooth
+ jowl But wait the same bold bluesman has stolen a kiss
Lips moist laboured breath Grizzled one tempts you out the
side door +onto the back of his bicycle
Through dark parishes +a cemetery or 2 you come to a halt at
a rickety pier Backroads astride the great Mississippi It is here
that you are baptized He trembles +moans in tongues as frigid
black water licks Red hair medusa-snakey flares out in a fan
You float +a zillion stars above form constellations in the shapes
of old men with guitars Next night it is you up on stage knowing
you will miss your plane Now the bride of Little Freddie King!
What was before was never yours so you have lost nothing From
this day forward juke joints call yo name
__
Winter 2017
for Lightnin Lee + Little Freddie King for the kiss+the rose Siberia New Orleans 2013
songanddancegirl 