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Between Avenues Of Despair

Updated on January 2, 2010

 

©-MFB III

 

Muted wails pierce
the waning hours
of a Saturday's demise
offering someone else's
misery in stereo,
drawn from a needle
stuck between grooves
that blunt my own woes.

Staring out
through a dusty pane
in a two room walk-up
near a mountain of past dues
wallpapering my night stands.

Spent way too long
practicing safe sax,
loneliness is the
only real bedbug,
and it's bugging me tonight.

That street corner's
calling me to make
my old felt hat gluttonous
with dead presidents.

Blow a horn amidst
the endless foot traffic,
slow the staccato
of the well heeled
into petulant pauses.

Front some of my blues
for others empathetic greenbacks,
curb some enthusiasm
with a question mark
of tarnished brass hanging
upside down from my lips
to punctuate the night air,
with some melancholy moods.

But there's a couple of cheap
Blatz left in my reefer,
with enough grub to sustain me
till tomorrow's rush hour crowd.

Plus I'm far to downhearted
for anything uptown,
so I'll just settle back
in my less than easy chair,
content to just blow smoke rings
at the ceiling stains that mar
my somewhat hazy view.




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    • Randy Behavior profile image

      Randy Behavior 7 years ago from Near the Ocean

      A disheartened musician too? :)

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