DB Cox- Three Poems

the american way

after another night
of stumbling done-in
down metropolis streets
too fucked-up to fly
superman lies
eyes closed
still under the influence
naked in the space
between night & day
conjuring pathetic
x-ray visions
of a spent comic book hero
too tired
to walk through walls
or leap tall buildings
with a single bound
too strung out
to keep it all
from falling down
dead certain
that truth, justice
& the american way
are no longer worth
the never-ending battle
so,
for the sixth time tonight
the frustrated
man of steel
grabs the .38
from the bedside table
puts it to his head
& pulls the trigger


psychedelic redneck

aging without grace
wearing his hat
pulled low over one eye
splitting the world in half
maintaining his spot
on the statistical fringe
fiddle-fucking with the envelope
of the psychiatric bell curve
pondering his lost investment
in paradise
old lies falling away
with every day that passes
caught between
walls of sameness
a whiskey wilderness
inhabited by
alcoholics
blood-bank whores
would-be motorcycle misfits
lonely war veterans replaying
tales of rockets red glare
bombs bursting in air

one graying blues man
loiters in the shadows
reeling under the weight
of too much input
looking for the hush
at the center
of the honky tonk universe


shotgun house

rotting shack
watched over
by three ceramic angels
casting cold eyes
over a weed covered
yard of wrecked cars
& a black cat parked
under a front-porch swing
that dangles
like a hanged man
from a single chain

a derelict mockingbird
rests on the rusting frame
of a 1964 mustang
& sings forgotten songs
stolen from
an unknown bluesman
who once slept here
small truths falling
in slow 6/8 time
12-bar compositions
concerning
louisiana hurricanes
with hellish "ladies names"
& skies that won’t stop crying