blues

did anyone ever look back
for everything I lost;
I think I’ll go back home where
the dogs chains are jingling, clanking,
with springs in their heels
while women hop, skip
towards a seaward captain
with his arms spread over the moon~
the children are suiciding off
the pier now, but only when the waves
are calm enough for the blues band
to make appearance to those sands
where a great pig roast is happening
and it’s all beat;
take a beat at the door where
the dance contest is wailing
Like horns of animals in
midsummer festivals, where
magical men their wands
over the virgin’s purities and
skips to a larger smile in the
blue - black - purple - and navy lagoon miles~
over the Brooklyn Bridge Blues where
children play games in the park
and soak, sink as
fire hydrants spray the street grass.