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Tattooed Mood for Houff's blues My old man played the bluesand dragged me from Biloxi to Chicago and Paris, one day he quit speaking and forgot his guitar. He sat in a chair for five years eating chicken and drinking whiskey then turned into a butterfly and flew out the window. I woke up with a dog-shit tongue my chest was covered with a dried blood-soaked towel, it was saffron and stank of tequila. A tattoo of Jesus walking on water adorned my freshly-shaved torso. Holy fuck I thought, now I'll probably be fingered by God. I met a beaufiful senorita she said, "You're tired and I am too but they are two different animals you need rest, I am run over Worn bald at the edges and can't get much traction. With time you will rejuvenate. I am a black chunk on the road of life." We traveled north to the valley of chiles hanging crimson, at night slept under a Li Po adobe moon dancing horses licked our faces. |
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Atlanta/Cleveland Versus America Baseball players holding capsover their hearts, the national anthem ending. "And the land of the free and the home of the brave..." Crazy Horse the last free brave rode into the stadium. His stallion wore blue war paint, he was colored white and red. Notching arrows, death flew swift. Millionaires fell like buffalo. Tears ran in streams, this time, they weren't red. Death never quenches thirst. We are all prisoners of love. With a one way ticket. |
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