(For Blues People)
In the south, sleeping against
 the drugstore, growling under
 the trucks and stoves, stumbling
 through and over the cluttered eyes
 of early mysterious night. Frowning
 drunk waving moving a hand or lash.
 Dancing kneeling reaching out, letting
 a hand rest in shadows. Squatting
 to drink or pee. Stretching to climb
 pulling themselves onto horses near
 where there was sea (the old songs
 lead you to believe). Riding out
 from this town, to another, where
 it is also black. Down a road
 where people are asleep. Towards
 the moon or the shadows of houses.
 Towards the songs’ pretended sea.









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