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Violins for Sherry

by Michael D. Amitin

I’m a country kid and the war is ending

slither like a soft sad snake though the crushed cherry ice cream
caked corridors of dreamland

brother William appears a dark gray ghost walking on stilts
punting memory crumbs through the goalposts
of my hot butter sleep
wandering the charred black toasted hills of no-man’s land

bright sparking child angel bellys up for chocolate sunrise
he kisses the tamborine winds
as we noodle past red lonely neon storefronts

Thai women washed ashore
like birds caught in massage oil slicks
thirty a pop gets you a crotch wisp’n graze
double or nothin’ takes your crushed cherry wind pain away
money flows up
she slips home finger-worn empty-handed

storyteller leaps from the nightshade
hopping heaven’s last hobo train
they’ve hijacked the fireplace
auto-erection smoking pokes speed round the cobblestone range
mashing village coal-cut streets
just as soon mow down pythia
strumming a lullaby of good fortune
waiting at your doorstep

St Denis came to drive the devil off martyr mountain
I came to convert myself into nothingness
I’ll take my silver platter head and walk six golden well-lit miles
and wash my holy sins in the raining gray spit of the gargoyles’ tongue
as she french-kisses gawkers on a skidlight bunny run

silence golden candle meditative violin night
ease through the catacomb street light
as solar birds circle operatic strains
all is calm heavenly night

Copyright © 2014 by Michael D. Amitin

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