~~~
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