scattered, in the wind

i've gone down from heaven
made some wings of salt
can't you smell the ashes scattered ?
just like honey in the wind

you've been walking for the sundown
old black hymnal singing choir
asking jesus for a favor
momma's child gone worn and frail

you liked your dresses blue in flowers
soft from drying on the line
old hot sun done made you crinkled
ain't that just the way of things
?

i've gone down from heaven
tired of angels, goodness bare
sure could use some fancy whiskey
paper label from tennessee

i'd trade his throne for barefoot dancing
for pain, sweet jasmine all the night
you'd sit for hours, stare at that mirror
i never knew you, no not at all

memories have lost their hold
lost their bitter taste
soon that man i was
will go a'scattered in the wind

the float

he was an immoderate man, choking d-flats into
his steel horn, riffing down ill-tempered a-sharp
sugary crusty donut shaped violations

he throned those iron steps scratched out
from his bedroom window, splayed his toes
shook his arms to free the juice

listening down, waiting out the breathing that
stole a few half-chordal splutters, squint-eyed
o-ing his lips to mimic back a few

maybe he'd coda out some butchy-boy noise
blonde hair glisses, frat-bunny do-wah do-wahs
crossin-the-bridge makin-time atonals

his leg found some dancing, shaking a wrong
old beat stutter stutter what'd-i-ever-do-to-you
and everybody knows boys don't cry

boys don't get sweet inspiration, make sweet
choices, make supper with sushi make-believe
and he splayed his toes cross the edge iron

steps, swimming in the moonlight, gripping
shimmying, chasing dizzies, gutting out
and making kisses on his horn, steel smooches

making him a good boy, an honorable boy
a make-me-proud boy, and he gripped the
iron one last time, then did the float

i have a window

i have a window, made of old stuff, grayed out in the sun, where
i can make my spying, safe and full-up with the warm of day,
and it never shadows my careful eye, never leaves me open

to the hardness lying by, it is a window special to my taste,
obedient to my ways, i am become here precious

i have a savory flavor, and i may cause with you, bring you
arias from the world away, pander you with scotches, rums
and scents, leave you pleasured, should i gift you with

lollipops and whispers

come sit with me, i am rare as those hothouse secrets,
i was an old man yester day, drunk up with churchy
hymning, drunk up with frittery oratory, but i have a window,

where i can tango in the dark, wear some fancy glimmers,
bring my little frivols to the play, i have watched you making
kisses, and i'll favor you my bruises, imagine you with blushes

we'll forget the sun betakes us both unkindly, if only you will
sit with me