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National City |
d.o.a.
they came to National City d.o.a.
porters of crippling fire
limping inside God’s coal bucket
mental bandages applied to ass-dragging
worries, devil's potions and sex
jumping aboard
applying one’s over-stated exuberance
misery visibly scarred
lives unrefined as a stonemason’s hand
malcontent figures in a world
of insolent seismic careers
their lives shell-shocked
living on St Michael’s morphine
forbearers of Macarthur’s embattlements
encrusted as sea chests sunk in debt
WWII was scripture in battle fatigues
with den mothers seeking a reprieve
from the thumping six inches
of Ahab’s ivory heel
we were a nation of Patton revilers
part of some systemized exhibition
our lips became voluntarily sealed
tighter than a carbide notch
lamentations layered
by rows of ruby red faces
smiles nesting in caskets
gazing upward at hophead ragtimers
ragging battles in their hallow skulls
the lucky ones were institutionalized
and not singled out for a drubbing
by government floggers and loan sharks
only the defiant filtered downward
through the maze of saltpeter afternoons
they were weary back street warriors
sun salesmen, mutton stew meddlers
recruiters, political phonies and crooners
nigger-haters, lump-jawed cock-heads
drunkards, tyrants and office centaurs
uniting with revenants of the divine
a nation of boozers chiming in at bars
their roll call reaching the seventh circle
pilgrimage to hell seared by a rain of fire
millions of indentured marriage wrestlers
culled by the lead weights of pencils
hibernating in baggy dispositions
fighting against collection plates
scum-slick pick pockets
and tight-ass motherfuckers
four-bangers knocking against slut doors
sniffing mama’s hot stew at night
then headin’ out for another chaser
a sequined incantation under a heat lamp
grenadine bedrooms full of parlor-dames
showing those one-eyed Jack-’o-lanterns
how to make love to suckling pigs
it was a violence against the very elect
against women’s inalienable rights
a pisser of jumbo pork pie deliverance
holy men handing out nickel malignancies
but I thank Eve that she investigated
that dog-eared rapture crutch
that she disrobed man's treasure house
and smothered his acrimonious sermons
in a skat-ramblers battered onion rings
copyright 2006
John
Wariner |
