Bourbon Moon
It's a bourbon moon tonight a bruised auburn afterthought flickering bulb swinging down a skyline of unrepentant desire where every soul is a pawnshop wristwatch tightly wound and deeply engraved by the years and you are ageless, empty, and totally beloved cruising old territory in a black Buick chariot a stand-in gangster from a thousand b-movie affairs pulled from the earthen well by the hands of dear Juliet as she emerges like a bar trick from beneath the widow’s veil the silken rescue of her famous blonde possibility drawn about you like a scarf, then a noose, then a scarf once again It's a bourbon moon testimonial dinner all pomp and circumspect chicken entree ambush a wavering shadow at the podium in a rented tuxedo the legendary raconteur now whipped until smooth coming clean on a record of just-shy connection that big steely bastard, the one that got away a cursing indignity through stink inky swamp your clean hook skimming sleek elusive flesh thin smiling lips in a blood champagne wake the punchline lost in laughter and small talk while the band vamps blues behind you and the paramedics rush in It's a bourbon moon emergency landing a horizontal joyride with flashing red lights another tough town, tough room, tough crowd but somehow you’re still the center of attention wrapped like roast beef in a blue hospital johnny your boots by the bed with the legs still attached sipping down a slow drip double morphine stinger a pink plastic bracelet on each unrecognizable wrist and the night nurse lingers like a crime scene witness and the thinning crowd cries out for one last number so you knock ‘em dead with “My Way” and the stage lights go down It’s a bourbon moon reunion a full dress rehearsal for the final last call where resilient spirits of leisure and refinement still hug the oiled mahogany for all they’re worth and you hold court in a dizzying swirl of affection taking in the ambrosia, otherworldly perfection all low sloppy slacks and fuzzy black socks hop-skirts hot with the wire and what-not wild reeds, wild weeds, bottles of stout rocking red jukeboxes of sound advice dear Juliet’s laughter filling the air a waning bourbon moon reflection ---- |
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