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
Are you feeling better this morning, Rob? Your comment on site in the wee hours was odd. Btw, you double linked to this same post, so I fixed it.
Anyway, this piece is too unapologetically aggressive for my taste, and any post that casually throws around the word “rape” leaves me cold. I really can’t imagine anything more counter to the spirit of what Laura Nyro stood for in her life than this.
I have no idea if I am alright Shay, I hope so. The poem was simply a “stream of consciousness” attempt to use all the words. It went in the direction of a raw heartless pirate. I didn’t realize it had to be about Laura, whose music I have listened to, loved, and owned since 1967. I am not that endeared to my “Sea Blues” write, so I have broken the link Shay, and won’t post links anymore on your site. Sorry for the intrusion into your space. Won’t happen again.
They sound like a motley crew of miscreants, Rob!
I thought I had put it back into Draft status. Still not happy with ih.