Hell's Band
(Mark William Jackson)

Posted on July 29, 2010 by in Heightened Talk

 

Tom Waits’ bleeding knuckles

painting the piano keys,

Keith Richard slits a finger

soloing over the Devil’s symphony,

Bukowski stands at the mic

calling everyone up to fight,

the MC dressed in leather

promises one hell of a night

on drums Keith Moon is vomiting

while John Bonham waits his turn,

through trumpet Miles is jonesing

waiting for his shit to burn.

demon Beasts of Bourbon

piss elixir into your throat,

the barman spews intoxicant venom

through the wicked teeth of a goat,

The bar room’s fucked up crowded,

the bar maids are filthy mean,

but give me a smokin’ dirt house

to any sterile ku klux clean.

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