Poetry Selection

Bar Crawl Crash

 cars cruise in a highway heard blazing by stop signs, shooting toward traffic lights at sixty-five on those suburban streets that coil like sidewinders with their dollar store air fresheners—gas guzzling amphetamines—skeletons of families as gas pedal fears push toward black night truths … the sort of midnight confessionals encased in steel and tempered glass & it’s just as soundproof as America as syllables mix with the radio’s top hits and escape through the window cracks, exploitative before oncoming headlights beam and silences the noise forever

 

Tremont House Blues

barrelhouse blues babes with their smoke stained teeth shout over late night crowds with hymns of hims who trickle down old wooden steps as degradations of the could’ve beens and the has beens and all the beens that could never be & crippled they cry out for more of everything as their bartender grabs a bottle of the cheap shit … the crap that convulses and births fresh bones that no longer creak to Soul Man & gets crowds to craze over drum beats and countertop cig machines, ignoring birth dates and funerals and that ripping life shit that slides down the throat with a liquor burn as they realize reality’s those fragments existing between drug binges as their worlds consist of rapid tempos & a rhythmic bass mirroring  a life even if it’s not theirs  because their life isn’t bourbon street, it’s a ghost of the past before smoke clouds and cancers and too early deaths … it’s mock rent parties teasing musical secrets like a jukebox queen.

 

Curbside Christianity

disembodied words flow out drive-thru speakers

as cars clamor for communion

tossed in takeaway bags

supersized for their sins

in a spot that’s no longer sacred

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Caitlin Price

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