First of the Month
Tiny bottles
Got them big foam cups with blue straws
Soaked shirts on heads and gap toothed smiles
Flat stomachs
Thick nails Campbell’s soup sweat, just looking
.
Every dog has its day
Every dog has its day
I’ll come back when I get paid
.
Will work, disabled
Sharpie on cardboard, clean your bins, haul junk
Wash your car with drinking water in the desert
We work with what we’ve got, peg legs and hook
Only friend in the world panting in a wagon
.
Every dog has its day
Every dog has its day
I’ll come back when I get paid
.
Your DoorDash driver has a walker
Bed bound wife and three cats at home
Laid off after a lifetime of service
And old Uncle Same he said
Well 2000 a month is plenty enough
.
He had some dogs too, once
.
.
No Histrionics
Full disclosure hm-hmm-mm
He ain’t worth the calories burned
And it must be June in France hm-hmm-mm
‘Cause he’d drown one drop the River Styx
All he drinks like a fish, so unseasoned
His tears acidify the ocean, he’s saltless
I don’t look over my shoulder, loose no belt
One drop, oh, one drop the River Styx and
.
Is it love or is it Sunk Cost
Cold comfort of a dual income (in the end, in the end)
Your sex a script a pedophile wrote
A man of course, voyeur internal
Glitz, flash, that Halo Effect (in the end, in the end)
Do you want him Bambi-legged against the wall in public
Or did he just cutely call you a #goddess?
Are you wet or is it stage presence? (in the end, in the end)
.
Baby, baby, baby, make a wish
A single coin if you think you can afford it
It was never about communication (in the end, in the end)
Your language hm-hmm-mm
The price is paid in silver, pure conduction
Heads nor tails a spark could land (in the end, in the end)
Mistook neuropathy for passion
Come, come correct
Baby, baby, baby, make a wish
It’s about intent
.
In the end
.
.
No Man’s Land
This ain’t Ruth and Boaz
Shimi-shimmy out the chaff
And wheat’s the staple of the white man
Saw paradise said make it flat
Where there’s a silo there’s surely vermin
His profit pretends subsistence
Expansive ecological expense
Long sleeves, bandanas, ball caps and straw hats
No documents
No documents
Desperation implies consent
Does it not
Does it not
Was the border that crossed them
Grocery stores got strings attached
What touched your lips was trafficked
That’s a dirty price tag
Pick a spice name a genocide
Summer synonymous with citrus
Of all things, something winter ripe
Out of sight, out of mind
These ain’t the women take to wife
But he takes and takes and takes alright
Whole new meaning to hen night
Be it fellow hand or foreman
Field or concrete slick with chicken shit
Not a one of them your friend
Man’s a man’s a man
Filthy fingered while you debone cutlets
Bled and bled for your job kept
Or worse he loose the prick
Remember girls, you’re Catholic
You’ll be forced to keep it
Desperation implies consent
.
.
Premonition
Wouldn’t know a love song if it bit ya
Wouldn’t know a love song if it bit ya
Only like a tenor when he’s a screamer
.
That boy, he couldn’t tell ya one thing about her
No meat on the false cords means no flowers
Eyes wide and dark-bright sunken
Skin so fragile as an insect’s wings
Submerged
Chest cracked open, open
Aural bloom surrendered in death
No two the same, harmonics exquisite
You men, you’re born dumb and deaf
Blind to the palette until you’ve met
And would you meet me in my garden
.
He couldn’t tell ya one thing about her
No he couldn’t tell ya one thing about her
All these tombstones say Wife and Mother
What about her
What about her
.
Would you meet me in my garden
Do you remember how to say my name
Without words
Would your hands know me in the dark earth
Know me and only wonder, more
Know me and never wander, alone
And love don’t fear the reaper, no
Love was it me held you first, you know
When you know, you know, you know
I’m here with a shovel
.
He couldn’t tell ya one thing about her
No he couldn’t tell ya one thing about her
All these tombstones say Wife and Mother
What about her
What about her
.
.
Mami Wata
Boy these deep waters
Lack for drama don’t lack for passion
Lack for games don’t lack for patience
This serpent always at my hips quenched
That’s grips of a goddess
My love is consummate
.
I said always
Have a heart can’t be swayed
Oh I’m warm on the inside
Shiver sweet with the on glide
Heady on the off glide
I said always
.
Cue the drum roll
Mama mama she’s a dancer
Mm that’s some stamina, pulse beat steady thunder
Couch, floor to table, not an inch I don’t savor
Have it last meal on death row
Either I’m dead or I’m letting you know
.
I said always
Have a heart can’t be swayed
Oh I’m warm on the inside
Shiver sweet with the on glide
Heady on the off glide
I said always
.
That’s always
Pretty papa don’t slip
Ha, he gimme drip
Think it just a woman wets
.
.
Beloved
Wouldn’t know the meaning of the word
Wouldn’t know the meaning of the word
Any more a fish can know a bird
.
Can put a white veil on your chattel
Can put a white veil on your chattel
What choice has the house girl
He just mad he can’t be Master
Hole’s a hole, brown bitch or cattle
Not a one of them your brother
Push come shove, dirt come doorknob
He just mad he can’t be Master
.
Come here girl
Never mind me red hair
Bring me your dolly poppet
Needlepoint with Maman Brigitte
Needlepoint with Maman Brigitte
Ain’t no skin color in the end
They choose first to be men
And every woman heart be black
.
Remember
.
Sethe did what she had to do
Sethe did what she had to do
I’m too angry for the blues
.
.
><><><><A bonus piece that popped out while I was concurrently writing the other six (sometimes it’s like how a printer prints with me you know?)><><><><
.
.
Tatterhood
A barren queen begged a daughter off a pauper
That hobbled witch said eat just one flower
Beneath her bed would grow two flowers
The sweetest fair and rare the other
So sweet she craved another
So sweet she craved another
And the queen she bore two daughters
One a blessing and one a curse
The rainbow and the storm inseparable
One sat pretty while the other scrapped
One in ribbons the other rags
.
Are you pretty or are you wild
Would you still do it without likes or subscribers
Go beast mode for zero dollars
For your mother and your sister
Face an army of trolls alone
Ride out on a goat and slit their throats
Oh bodies gonna hit the floor
They stole her head so heads would roll
Set sail with her just her sister in tow
Are you pretty or are you wild
.
Took the fight right up on them
Frayed and grey they looked right past her
Snuck the head right from the window
Gut and sacked the den soon after
And they set sail our sisters
Some far off adventure, imagine
The sea and stars and your best girl forever
A distant kingdom wandered, curious they did dock there
It king paid a visit proper
Fell fast upon blessed visage
And she said yes, our perfect princess
.
Are you pretty or are you wild
Would you still do it without likes or subscribers
When your sister says on but one condition
A second suitor take your hand first
And all the prince was forced, king undeterred
She wed him stubborn, bare faced, raw hemmed
Thunder front upon miserable event
Beside her twin the perfect princess
Fire lanced side glanced altar knelt
Are you pretty or are you wild
.
That old man was a scoundrel
She was agreeable, soft, and mild
Young enough to be his daughter
Pampered pedestal receptacle
So sweet he craved another
So sweet he craved another
Tats made sure she bore no child
Tats made sure he took a tumble
Paid every maid parting sum but the one
Bu the one her sister’s favorite
What you seen well no you didn’t
.
Are you pretty or are you wild
Would you still do it without likes or subscribers
How well do you love your sister
And what of our sullen mister
For at first his mood was sour
But no love lost with his father
And he saw this rare sister
Make cowl to golden crown
Make goat to mighty stallion
Spoon to sword, spoon to wand
.
Somehow she wore the finest gown
Well
.
She gave him the option
Come warm southerly winds
But he asked no annulment, oh, no
Nothing and everything had changed
If she’d have him, if she’d have him
He’d have his queen be wild
A beauty after all
.
.
@~^~
Just so we’re clear I am not a musician nor was I raised in an environment where music took place beyond the age of eight, which was when my overachieving polymath banker seven-instrument-musician grandpa died. Unless you count the birds outside, wailing babies, domestic disturbances and sirens. I also used to hum along to electrical currents. I just make a bunch of sounds in my head, sing-mutter and write things down. If you put an instrument in my hands I wouldn’t know anything about it beyond which end to hold. I think I would have loved drums though. Nobody stares at the drummer, and the only thing gets my blood up as much as heavy bass is percussion. That and I like to hit things.
Anyways, if you’re wondering why I’m suddenly dipping my toes into the folksy bluesy jazzy end of the spectrum when my natural inclination is obviously to be cold, fast, and stabby…my sister and I are once again attempting to visit New Orleans. Christmas through New Years if Nothing Happens. I’d say come hell or high water but fate has a way of taking me up on that. Cough Katrina Cough COVID. Brass, beignets and swamp kittens here I come! Third time’s a charm!
Someday I’ll have the time to properly tinker with my songs. Far too much tedious, pointless bullshit eating up my days at present.

Leave a comment