The BeeGees, Duck Dynasty, and Jesus

Out and about with Lawrence “Mack in Texas” Hall (Rated PG)

The BeeGees, Duck Dynasty, and Jesus

Garage-sale-blocked again, the one-lane road
Hosts cars on both sides, and oxygened-men
Defiantly aluminum-caning the middle
In their Quixotic quest for eternal youth

The BeeGees, Duck Dynasty, and Jesus
On collectible plates and VHS tapes
Marilyn and Elvis bourbon decanters
Chinese-made MAGA caps in camouflage

“They just don’t make things like they used to do” –
Which is true, indeed, for them, and me, and you

The Allegory of The Cave Bar & Grill

One wonders what Plato did with his cave
After he had no further use for it
As an instructional tool for undergrads
In Philosophy Intro. 101

Perhaps he repurposed it as a club
Along the campus drag, with puppet shows
To keep the English students entertained
As they exchanged Miltonian bon mots

And when Daddy’s credit card bounced (the corner booth)
The barman lectured on the nature of truth

The Geometry of Intersectionality

Crossroads

Intersections aren’t crossroads, you know
Where you can choose to stop a while and talk
With a man walking some other way in life
And learn something over a borrowed cigarette

Intersections

At intersections you never meet anyone
It’s all about obedience to lights and signs
And painted arrows in the road that seem
To point everywhere except where you want to go

Stop-for-awhile signs

There are stop signs in life. You have to stop
But then you go – a stop sign isn’t forever

The Pancake House on Easy Street

Late afternoon, we’re headed outta town
Long drive ahead, needing a cargo of
Cholesterol and caffeine for the road
And just now almost any old place will do

Some discreet exchanges in the parking lot
Hunched shoulders, cigarettes, suspicious stares
Wind blowing paper cups and ‘tater-chip bags
Across the weedy decay of civilization

But it’s warm inside and the coffee’s good
The waitress shows us a picture of her child

Two Fingers of House Scotch

A bartender should be paunchy and middle-aged
His oldest kid in college, the youngest in jail
Cigarettes in five ashtrays down the bar
His name is Blue; nobody knows just why

If there must be a woman behind the bar
Let her name be Sophie or Maud or Toots
Too much makeup, hair dyed fire-engine red
She misses stripping at the Flamingo

Frank Sinatra once bought her a drink, yeah, true
But now she kinda has a thing for Blue

What Went Ye into the Casino to See?
Shootings at a Las Vegas Casino
-news item

What went ye into the casino to see –
A numbered mandala spinning truth on red
A James Bond manque in a cartoon tee
A tatted Sylvia Trench wheezing a joint?

What went ye into the casino to see –
A clapped-out Toyota cruising the drag
Mysterious encounters behind the Denny’s
Getting lucky in the Lucky 7 Motel?

Does a man learn at last what life really means
Choking in blood among the slot machines?

Cf. St. Matthew 11:7

When We Arrive in Saint Petersburg

When the Paris plane lands at Pulkovo
We will be groggy from traveling through time
But first we drop our bags at the Nevsky 88
And report to the Emperor on Senate Square

Two coffees from a kiosk, and a bench
We’ll probably buy a postcard or two
And watch passing lovers on that summer day
And make no plans beyond that moment

The Horseman in the sun will be enough
For we will have arrived in Saint Petersburg