These sea-spent soul serpents
captain their coffin galleons
afloat with their *newly dead
ferried rough’n’raw to the docks
then off to sweet-flesh wenches
in the sin-sullied gypsy taverns
to boast their blood-soaked tales
and spend death’s ill-gotten gold
burnt whiskey confessions
cradled scarred and strong
in the muscle-head crooks
of their murder-bent elbows
hoisting a flagon
of bahamian beach rum
temptation rich
and firestorm spiced
spreadin’ the forecast
of tonight’s fisted fury
knuckled wild and savage
n’hell-frenzied foul
not for the lazyants
or weak-gutted braggarts
these fierce-spirit lads
crush lameful foe brutally
ready to fight
at the instant is dropped
a three-pointed hat
these ain’t no scared pigeons
their creed’s raidin’ & ragin’
all stoned immaculate
wheellocks fully loaded
and trained on their prey
like fiery tomcats
on a cool moonlit night
roamin’ the side streets
to rumble & pillage
whistlin’ down the devil
prowlin’ angry and proud
hearts cold as winter
tempers hot as hell
*
rob kistner © 2022
*bodies / votes