Blues God

What awesome battles they are

Growing in my eyes

The humans blowing forth

Like the sixth beast on jazz river

In these last days, the sheep-goats

Seek out the Babylon night

The winds of resurrected armies

Lift the teeth and desperate hosannas

Accident people in time signature

Moving to a tribulation rendezvous

Behold, my Gospel in war days

Guyasuta in snakeskin boots

Let there be dog bite, hands for losing,

Liquor goddammed, I say, third degree

Billy club on jaw, riotously

No real law, jack-boot seat

Mezz in the crosshairs, police only

Sparking in cataract symphony

Here traffic jam, bad rap birth pangs

Here antichrist catalog, bum deal heart disease

Here sirens, screams, cat-in-tree

Here, the blues and all brutality

"I guess the moral of the story is that if you want to
entertain an American audience good, just beat their
brains out and they'll always come back for more."
       Mezz Mezzrow, Really the Blues

posted to Poets United Poetry Pantry #184