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Battered by
Beatles, boppers,
Bellicose brass blowing
blacks.O who will save
our precious
bordello flower?(Petals further
wounded
by fusion's
tawdry rain,
and pomade
from Miles Davis'
hair weave)But fear not-
those who pray
at the statue of
Our Lady Of 52nd Street/Sure as Mariah Carey
outsells Maria Schneider
there is hope.For like a posse
in sharp-ass suits,Or my Mother
wielding a can of
air freshener
after one of Dad's
basement (Bird and)
beer parties,After killing all charlatans,
The new old jacks
(re)fill their air
with "Stablemates"
and "Cherokee"
to rid the land of funk.Reuben Jackson
copyright © 2001 Reuben Jackson
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