Wednesday, February 10, 2016

Mayor of 42nd Street


Mayor of 42nd Street

somewhere there is a
90 minute cassette tape of
nebulous hobo poetry read
aloud from a moving 1949
Hudson Commodore Sedan
in the deepest, most tender
                & musical voice of
 a pallid & puckered hustler
                who
jumped trains across the cosmic
spread of a stained republic
thieving endless marble skies
& small towns of aching beauty
                his
was a galaxy of vilified vagrants
loose ladies & sad sailors
heroin hearts & beggars
                junk-sick surrealism
despite his disreputable pursuits
street slang and searing honesty
a boutonnière clung to his lapel
his manners
distinguished him
ecstasy was exile
illumination pithy
                drunk & happy 
the Mayor of 42nd Street
                an exaggeration
                of beatnik blues
                midnight mouth
there are so many                      
footnotes to Howl
                songs of the damned
sound
                on 42nd Street
this is a bad short story
about a rich bastard anti-hero

& his taxi suite counterparts

**

I came up to my writing room tonight with the best of writing intentions, I was excitedly distracted by a music conversation with my best girl. That led me to blanking on the title of a song I had a urgency to listen to. I sent a text to a friend who wasn't answering quick enough to quench that thirst so I went digging for it in a stack of old mixed CDs. I was 'supposed' to be finishing this poem but was seduced by a mountain of music I haven't heard in ages! I imported a slew into my iTunes. I soon had to discipline myself, put the books away and focus back on the page.

I haven't been sleeping well this week so I thought perhaps I'd move away from the TV and see if creativity could tire me. How silly! I'm wildly overtired and thirsty. I'm a weirdo.

One more song, maybe two. Then bed.

In propinquity,
Nic

4 comments:

  1. I can't keep up with you, Nic; you've exploded back onto the scene with gem after gem, some weightier than others, but every one a testament to you being an extraordinary person in an ordinary world. The visuals in your poetry are as captivating as the emotion they inspire.

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    Replies
    1. The 29 Days of Gratitude I'm doing on F******k has sparked it. It's astounding really. I have been writing and thinking and jotting down notes since I started the challenge with Kiersten. I have NINE poems drafted and ready to post. I am writing faster than I can blog. This one in particular was fun to write because I got all beatnik and threw on the jazz and pretended to smoke my pen. Feels more than amazing to be writing on a regular basis again.

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    2. How wonderful! By reading Big Magic (thank you again and again), I'm starting to feel my atrophied sinews stretching and regaining their flexibility. Geez, maybe there is something to daily exercising of the muse? It's sure as h*** working for you!

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  2. I am convinced, just as the morning pages are, a blessing.

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