scenes behind the five-point/

poems 1 Minute

©2021 Michael Raven

we stood like ice --
sacred whoresons waiting
for redemption in sin
under the neon sun

welt-pelted youth
aged disgraceful, rough
our cigarette-ashed
tongues laden heavy
with liquor smiles
to the leather of
hailstorm-licking
gutterboot life

shutter-flicker
flash-still lives
haunted by need
we, me, you, them
kiss our ghost-kin
to the pyre our fire
burning tyger bright
dancing in the
nadir night painted coal

cue sax man:
we love our audience
we love our audience
showing heart & soul
jazz hep cat beret black
whiskey talk microphone
beating skin red
in the basement
sub-lit haze music dawn

winter, black sedge sludge
greasy with lipstick lies
kissing, licking, kissing
stocking knee to velvet lips
underskirt dreams in
the alley, the alley
popcorned with needles
and jizz

play again sam with
tinsel town fingers tapping
meandering lines
and i heard her voice
through the memory
haze smoked oak bar
jaundiced with time
singing glory glory gloria
as we shambled
the night
away

naked and unafraid

Published by Michael Raven

Michael Raven has been murdering innocent words since some time in primary school and hasn’t had the decency to stop after he was first published in second grade. During the mid-90s, he was the emcee at a spoken word/open mic salon, "Sweet Immolation", in Seattle’s Belltown neighborhood. He is deeply interested in the Old Ways and in shamanic traditions.

Published

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