Short Speakeasy Poems

You left us a sound  recording of the pronunciation
but I'm guessing my ien from yang
with no written list to escrow
I'm blundering trying to shoulder this word game
and my reve of speakeasy fades
like Icarus without wings
I'm left floundering
on the mais we
You've jettisoned espere again
and I'm still guessing at my letters
I need a dentist to perfect my rolling R...

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“Little boy, little boy, where have you been? Down in the cellar drinking your father’s gin?”
“Not I,” said the boy with a drunken laugh. “Who am I to drown in father’s wrath?”
“Little boy, little boy, you smell strongly of sin! I shall ask you once more—where have
you been?
“Good sir,” said the boy, stumbling through the path. “I was not in the cellar. I was only
in the bath!”...

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Perhaps it is weary.
In the mental hourglass.
I rummage through my recollections.

Along the back wall of the speakeasy.
when the public voice has spoken
Perceptions.

Grace from a bird's-eye view.
love's twisted rails
Smell stolen.

We slipped down the rainbow's edge.
Above my eyes, I have grey stripes.
Grey slits go over my eyeballs.

Written: April 14, 2022...

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she wore a diamond headpiece, which made her eyes look azure.
Her self-assured smile walked ahead of her dangling earrings.
Like a prism, she commandeered the entire speakeasy.
We men had heard of her, but none of us knew she was real.

One dapper gentleman stood up to ask her to dance.
She laughed; I am the entertainment, she told him.
Sit and watch. Her act was beyond exciting.
That was forty years ago, and I still remember her....

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Making match sticks from the bridges
We haven’t yet burned.
Making match sticks to burn the bridges
We haven’t yet burned.
So busy with drinking cocktails,
sweating sex in hotel rooms,
 Running from boredom
Soaking up the smiles from homeless on the pristine streets,
Widdling away the reflections in the shop windows,
That’s not me, I am me, here with a flask and an appointment
At a speakeasy, staying busy. 
So busy making matchsticks we ran out of bridges to burn.

Michael F. Lewis
3/20/2014...

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