Chet plays the Mercury L

Before the rain
Tore off
some baleful heart
in private pictures
Of sordid songs
on beat to

alley footfalls
other shadows
that quit the sound
in the stolen cornet
A dreamer’s dream
of lost memories
In abandon hotels
hand on that shattered
note

sepia note cards
lipsticks bleeds

one onyx cufflink
silver clips
crushed flasks
discarded jacks
lovers under

blue smoke
faced away

prenatal twins

clutching cold promises
night sweats
in whispers
through a calypso coma

dreams back

Driving red ’55 Alfa with your blonde
Hair and scarf

brushing wind tide
On my neck
You make me hum

’Where or When’
& you cradle my horn

like it was our boy

kick your shoes out
Of the window to feel
your arch
to the wind

as I curl my toes

yes,  I pissed you off bad

over the fucking moon bad

cuethegaddamnmusic

You can’t chase him down
in that torn door
To that empty hall
that lullaby street
our condemned psalm
of sexless escape
shadow in shadowblew
let the puddles bust open
onto that pocked room
Lapel against the mangled collar
Clinging to fevered hair.
Then he shoots the stars
into that unseeable nirvana

pictures of godless eyes
Of mercury wings
On the wounded heart
Crouched over blue scorched notes
Ash, whiskey, burn, whiskey, more

just whiskey Chet
honey notes all over the bed.
Cradling his trumpet.

alternate take 

Chet Plays the Mercury L

Before the rain
Eroded a
Whispery ballade
The private pictures
in sordid songs
About stupid hearts and
Busted scales
Trashed in
drop dead lipsticks
Chipped onyx cuff links
Silverdeco cigarette cases
left on by
Discarded lovers
Thrown through smoke
Of scared promises
Playing the
corruptible psalm in a
Cobalt wind
or Driving a pink panel
55-crome
Chevy convertible
your luscious hair
Playing cello
moon tide on
His lap and
you make me hum
‘Where or When.’
kick your shoes off
feeling your arch smile
to my toes
yeah, I pissed you off
you can’t chase me down
To the wrong door
To that empty hall
that lullaby
that damned psalm
of sexless lust
shadow in shadow in shadow
lets the mirror open
all he sees is the black satin
Lapel against the mangled collar
Clinging to his wet hair.
forces silently
Away to complete
That unseen picture
Of lacquered eyes
On the wounded brow
Crouched over blue scorched notes
Ash whiskey notes tracks lies
spilled all over the bed
Cradling his trumpet.

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