Cement Shoes
With a heavy heart,
the sorrow in it
feels
all
hope
is
sinking
And with my last breath,
I’m gonna tell all ...
what I was
dropped
anchor
thinking
Lets start at the top
deck of the pirate yacht
It gives such a perfect tan IX-mil view
In Miami South Beach,
sandals are your matching toga shoes
Scandals of corruption be
blue suede pocket pick pretty
Fleecers a-foot, bandito fiddy
was the treadmark attire
Shakedown Flo-rida: Federales
wearing a wire
Looking for cartel gun-toters for hire
Frog men aboard the Sea Wolf
were running mules,
and slow stir cooking the books
To their mob boss,
they made a dirty money call
Those sticky tongue Jezebels
heard-tell
there be a pesky fly on the wall —
A Judas in dress blue ~ A green dolphin dipper
An inside man,
(ready to pension bail)
looking to flip for a few dollars more
Make an Iscariot sell
(This is where I come into the picture getting framed)
Salty sea dogs,
stool pigeon peg legs of Ahab ...
went on a blue wail hunt,
looking for a snitch
Brass knuckle tactics
will make someone
give up the name of a badge witch
Espec-shh snub nose when
the pointy finger got a trigger itch
From the Jungle to the Trap,
roll tide
had an ATL surprise package:
ATF alpha hit man on a Pony Express sanction
By way of Rio Grande
Never look a gift Trojan Horse
in the mouth
(They still shoot horses, don’t they?)
Received a Depression Era-style eulogy: My funeral procession
is headed south ... where only fishes speak
With no body in the coffin,
seaweed secrets
won't sprout ~ Seems an Untouchable didn’t receive any doubt
Why ... so sad, the grandson of Eliot Ness vigilantly asked?
El Sons of Al Capone are steal
lurking about
So, what I’m Training Day trying to say,
from my watery grave,
some with an Oedipus holster complex betray
fall dice rattling sway
To the Mother Lode lure of the Pay-for-play,
that sidewinds from Miami Vice way
(This is where this sordid story ends,
exactly in the same place it began)
And the hard clay Limeys came
on a Wit Pro ruse ... in their frog men wet suits,
bearing ill-will fitting cement shoes
So, now as the last undertow bubbles
of this life undercover buoy a gangster rue
For thirty silver pieces worth stubble,
a friend gave me the Big Sleep murky view
Copyright © Freddie Robinson Jr. | Year Posted 2019
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