James Byrd Poet I do not know?

One Step Down

 Draft beer,

chess boards,

and Kerouac cool.

Cerebral grafitti and
a Robot-in-Drag juke box
bubbling out fifty years of good jazz.

A virtuoso burger flipper
destroying the laws of physics,
making gravity play the fool.

On the restroom walls,
the surfaces held
musings of poets

and philosophers…

overwritten since, 
by lesser bards

and now
closed.

Soon to be
apartments.

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Laurie Ginn March 10, 2009 at 6:40 PM Huge bad cuss word! Apartments can be built from the most generic of materials and be placed at any location. To steal away with a place that has seen so much life is an insult to the senses.

Debbie Guzzi February 17, 2009 at 5:41 AM another manly write and I loved the twist endings! I do them alot. If you like the gut punch finally try Sweet Tart.

Corinne Curcio February 13, 2009 at 10:16 AM More like several steps down. "Lesser bards" indeed. Good one James

Carolyn Devonshire February 12, 2009 at 7:22 PM James, isn't it sad that so many of the exciting, colorful places we once knew are "now closed. Soon to be apartments." This is my type of poem. Thanks!