Called to the Bar
You are no stranger, I've seen you with
Faces in a thousand different lights,
Your cigar fumes message your entrance
And like a sheik you flash your green
Drinking away time in small hours
Leering at skirts as they swirl by.
You are loaded and over fifty,
Life in the fast lane has lost its thrill
And liquor, its punch.
You long to cash in your chips-
You search for a soul to surrender,
Like a crocodile you gape with glass in
Your eyes and in primitive shift,
Your feet shuffle towards me.
Sure, I give the heady spin of the Big
Dipper, to blow socks off in shaking shadows,
A flute flagellation with melodies
Whipped up when lips leech to histories
And past and present plead to be sucked out.
Access, granted, you drift in dreams
And soar like midnight kites with no strings
Into a spin of strokes with rap and pound.
Player, you beat my bones to a mush,
Off the edge of love you fall,
To nail me with your huge crush.
Robert Dummett's Other Poems
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