at the Triple’s (unscrew words out of the smog).

In a strange, strange place
Two music men
Unscrew words out of the smog

Whittle them into a vase
Where their stories hide & stem,
Twine, hop, serpentine & hug

All about this rather strange,
Strange place.
And they sing colors, perhapses

And theres. Like on a torn page
Where her face,
Or what she says

Is played… In a strange,
Strange place. A naked
Beer sipped in between tunes

Is kissed by the smoky-dressed
Light on the skin. And two music men

Without a stage
From the highway hewn,
Boots still hot, a drum & a banjo

Speaking things ’bout yesterday,
Paper wads to unfold
In the ears. And la, lala, lalala, oh!

Now people at the bar
Some hear, others wonder about their way
And two music men hold

The night away.
La, lala, lalala, oh!
Sang The O’s.














Photo: Dean JEFFREY, “The Triple, Richmond, VA”

~ THE O’s


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