Sneakin' Up On Breakfast
our final set was 3:00 am
the gear’s broke down and stowed
now here we sit
with smuggled single malt
and the crusty sunrise special
me and my blessed band
bliss’d out from giggin’
bleary-eyed and blasted
among the groupies
the loud hangers on
and my sad friend joey
just back from viet nam
we’re sittin’ with
the steel-heart working girls
and sweet soul-bruised painted strippers
they love us ‘cause we’re brothers
in this family of the night
all in the flesh parade
of burnt drink slingers
and tired cocktail mules
hipsters grifters drifters
and slick gamblers
from behind the sealed doors
of those private upstairs rooms
swell perfumed boys
and sisters of the leather
tyrannies dressers
queens and she-males
pimps pushers and the cops
stark as morgue mates
hidin’ from those cruel first rays
like a pack of squandered vampires
ready to scurry off
to well-curtained rooms
or other dark holes of despair
it’s time to make that final score
whatever gets you through
‘till sundown
strikes up the band again
I’ll tell ya
ain’t this show biz grand
it’s cirque du morning madness
all sneakin’ up on breakfast
• • •
rob kistner
Rob wrote: Don’t know why but this photo below put me in mind of the 60’s when my band played the all-night R&B clubs in Newport Ky, which was the ‘wild’ night-world just across the Ohio River from Cincinnati.
Posted over on his site Image-Verse
Listed as #62 over on Magpie Tales 62
as the numerologists go wild, words bend, and images frolic.
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