cigarettes, booze, and guns

and you just damned right
well know
that the next item
on the
agenda
is
sex:
lots of it,
some of it of
the slo-jam
variety,
the sort of thing
that goes on for hours,
with no meth
involved,
which
generates
enough
heat
to liquefy glass, and
which has its fierce
adherents;
and some of it
inspired
by Dizzy Gillespie,
remixed with
Queen
and Jay-Z,
a rhythmic
thumping
that will send
hearts
a-pumping
all over the 'hood --
it's that good --
and folk talking
in low whispers
about the wailin'
and the moanin',
in the local
horizontal vespers;
it's the
universally unspoken
language that
we all know,
the force that has
shattered empires
and murdered billions,
that rules
when all other forces
abate,
and we kneel
at the altar,
we are feeble,
weak-kneed,
and we falter,
smiling, screaming,
sweating, dreaming,
collapsing into a heap,
and falling into
the deepest crevasse,
headlong,
carefree,
sated, at last.



April 16, 2010.

Copyright © 2010, Ricky A. Pursley. All rights reserved.