Poetry, Uncategorized

“The Black Hammer”

by

P.E. Tottenham

Looking for a special grave
near the center of town.
There was never a fountain &
No symbols were found…

Boston’s blue
Alachua grey
Torn at the seams
And turned away, so:

Rose:
Shaved!
Fucked!
Dranked!
Smoked!

Joined up at six with
The Crystal Spick
(nee
Neamathla James Veracruz)

Got Isaac Saul Shelaylay:
(obsessed with English grammar)
Black Jew, Black Irish, and Crystal Spick
Enter the Black Hammer

And auto away
From Entropy,
Aunt Chunowa,
O, Dear Aunt Tippi…

They think:
Too much style in Subaru
But I-95
Brings the Cold North to you

Heater Core blows
Washington, DC
Crystal Spick bewares
To the Black’s reddened nose:

“Gone Heater Core’s naught
But debut of an hysteria
This auto dies slo
In the Tri-State Area…”

There’s fire in the ground
From Pennsylvania coal
So we burn down New Jersey
And it’s Pine Barren Soul

Money moves out for the gift
Of Natural Light,
Cigarettes, roman candles,
And M-80s stun the night

O, Boston, Cape Cod,
Them islands somewhere
O, why are we always
Escaping up here

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

©2017 P.E. Tottenham/Teagown

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