~~~
The music penetrated the paintingsonthe w a l ls
and the m a g i c voicesfromthe paintings blend
with the v o i c e s at the o p e n – m i c j a m
s e s s i o n, and we a l l sweated, smoldering
in the steam of hot cat fish, collards, and baked
mac & cheese, adding more fingerprints to
the stained menus. Wanting what other patrons
at other tables smack on. E n t e r s a dancing-
man leaning on metal cane. He can’t stop what
the d r u m m e r is aching at, what the b a s s
player’s doing live and has bleeding fingers for,
what t h e Marvin Gaye cover guy is p u t t i n g
on us like a welt. It’s D-town’s r e constructi o n , and
the paintings on the walls , rum and coke happy,
harmonize until they s w e a t out oh yeahs,
hallelujahs, and gawd damns, as
s t a c y adams, high heels, and even the broke
h a n d – m e – d o w n s s m a c k hard on the
b l a c k and w h i t e tile like it’s a s w e a t y
woman’s f i r m ass. “Oh y e a h! It is!”
~~~
Photo by Chris Gilmore
