Heavy Metal
Summer
wearing
a fitted blazer
&
horn-rimmed glasses
in
a bustling downtown
teashop
I busy myself
scribbling
poems in a
new
Moleskine jotter
desperate
to be an artist
capable
of capturing the
madness
& appetite of
my
heavy metal summer
each
verse a light parody
of
something conjured
up
in a 80s fever dream
at
first glance I could be
confused
for a bit of a
elitist
artsy fartsy prig
you’ll
be surprised to
learn
that I made art on
my
bare chest up against
many
a cold concert rail
unencumbered
by the male
centrism
of rock ‘n’ roll
I
may now sit & work at
a
mahogany desk inlaid w/
mother-of-pearl
but I was
once
a listless daughter
product
of a broken home
fond
of strange courtships
shouting
at the Devil w/ a
pint
of vodka shoved down
the
ass of my too-tight jeans
in
any given parking lot
leaning
on some random car
on
any given summer night
in
nineteen eight five
***
And,
another successful writing exercise in the can. The writing prompt was 1985. I’m
pretty sure the documentary the accompanying photo is from came out a year or
two later but for some reason the year conjured my first viewing of ‘Heavy
Metal Parking Lot’. It was awesome and I still enjoy seeing snippets of it now
and then.
This
poem is kind of resolving past with present, fact with fiction, and plain old
fun-with-words.
Happy
Friday!
In
propinquity,
Nic
