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UNDERGROUND VOICES: POETRY
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D.B.COX
puzzle box again it might be night & it is drunk here in this room too small to contain my loneliness mind gray & vacant searching the solitude for clues that might unlock this chinese fucking puzzle box slow movement forward through another day nothing left to say that doesn’t sound like nonsense quiet anguish as my imaginary rushmore crumbles & falls away- how long has this dust been descending have you seen bessie leaning on the bar moaning low notes darker than a clarksdale juke joint ma rainey approved blue tones painted with smoke & whiskey have you heard bessie singing songs shaped in tragic grace snapshots of human hurt framed in black packaged & sold like dirty photos in plain-wrapped envelopes of pain have you seen bessie racing hell-bent along mississippi backroads wheels humming to the tune of late-night radio indigo empress rolling toward a place where the highway ends midnight falls on the cool mind-enhanced masses in barroom communion raise empty glasses in half-assed salute to karaoke jesus with his new crown-of-thorns tattoo singing the crucifixion blues over the simulated pinfall of emulated bowling alleys while a reality show rolls on a muted TV modern art masterpiece hanging from a faux-brick wall midnight falls on the cool me watching you five fingers shaking by a silver cellphone praying your connection will call back soon good saint shane …for Shane McGowan holding tight to a mic stand lifeline- cigarette smoke rising from a shaky right hand pushing perfect songs past a death-rattle diaphragm good saint shane stumbling toward grace pissing in the face of the “everyday” half-burnt brain cells still flaring across that magic black box half-cocked laugh crackling like static from a broken radio rock & roll water walker playing out the implications of his holy part peter pan poet with a metronome heart that keeps on beating because it can DB Cox can be found in the early-morning hours, bent over a Fender Stratocaster, in roadhouses and juke joints throughout the south. He describes his playing style as “a look at life through drunken, godless eyes” To quiet his tortured soul, he writes. Two of his short stories, "Road Like A River" and "Before Tomorrow" have been nominated for Pushcart Prizes. He has published four books of poetry. His first chapbook is entitled “Passing For Blue”, and is available from Rank Stranger Press. Two other chapbooks, “Lowdown” and “Ordinary Sorrows”, are available from Pudding House Publications. His latest collection called “Empty Frames” can be picked up on-line at Main Street Rag Publishing. |
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© 2008 Underground Voices |
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