“Refining the heart like sour mash whiskey: Fumigate the fearful pt 2”

by Harry

Submitted by http://zaroffblog.wordpress.com 

.

Take me by the hungry hand
whistling Dixie

smells like hot cracked pepper
airborne
Greek concrete women
no legs
perfect sculpted breasts
chests
holding up grey brick building columns
gussy up Gay street

sterling silver night skyline
reflects during the daylight
liquid whiskers
Tennessee teenagers of four
sound horns in the deep crowds clamour
for Christmases of old

thief’s with a thirst
for bronze bracelets
that which is light to the touch
meant for the taking

violins rest in between busking
from a bench with fickle fingers
and hungry black instrument cases
for consecutive or not

black top hats to try on heads
turquoise necklaces strung on necks
of soft sirens luring
nestling
from werewolf killing metal

peanut butter chocolate truffle swirls
men in candy cane
festive department store suits
elves in green jackets
yellow leggings

bustle around shiny cappuccino machines
black handles twisting
foamy froth fizzing
not foreign to the shivering
camera shutter operators

the letter press printers moved
rolling
photographs from Union avenue

we stole the trees of giving
books of poetry
from overpriced koa shelves
right out from under their noses

there was a fiesta
with dancing soccer skeletons
liquor by the handle
chicken fajitas sizzling
off cast iron skillets
for the taste buds flairing
cinnamon churros sprinkled with sugar
sink me in a diabetic coma

receding as the tide from the moon and sun
as the chilly breeze sweeps us towards the
Internal combustion engines
lukewarm

when strings
with purple rosin dust resume
i remember friends not forgotten
made of gold

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