Joyce Angela Jellison featured last night. I had a weird night. Already running late, my bus held me up because there was a passenger we almost called an ambulance for. He claimed he was low on blood sugar before conking out. The driver and I checked his breathing and his pulse before he let out a huge snoring/belching sound. Nope. Just drunk. Probably a waste of the cranberry juice I got for him.
All of this is to say that between this and the small open mic, coupled with the fact that I arrived just after Mignon Ariel King finished her open mic spot with her musician friend. I was in a weird place. I just picked up the pieces and did the best I could (trying to begin with a reference to music) and stopped at the end of the night. I had some kind of character. I might return to it. Typed it while listening to "B-Boy Bouillabaisse"from Beastie Boys' Paul's Boutique for no discernible reason. Here's what I got.
The Final Testimony of Mr. Lucky
Everything I know I either learned
from strumming catgut wire
or stringing the guts of a bad crooner
until he yelled like a past-prime cat in heat.
I can't say which is true for sure, officer.
I exercise open carry and always hold
three different stories per event at all times.
A man without an alabi is like a beached whale
with no voice to sing their swan song,
or an empty womb without a good time.
Everything dies, but why not lie a little first.
How is that not a zen-like balance?
Like my friend always told me,
Your mom's a whore. He loved women
as much as the next Trump rally-man.
I have no hate. just a blues tune
I have absolutely no right to.
I've asked the voiceless their story.
They're quite capable of telling it, thank you.
Don't ask me to repeat it. I can't quote
things set in marble reliably.
|Apologies to Mignon for not getting her or her music name on the list.|
Special thanks to Mignon Ariel King, Mike Konow, Chris Robbins, Neal Katz, Martha Boss, Nancy Messam, Deborah Priestly, Joyce Angela Jellison. and James Van Looy.