Erik Satie Watusies His Way Into Sound
       

Bastard sons of bastard sons build filthy nation-states in
the ragged frontiers of deserted drive-in movie theaters
because enfranchisement always works better when
there's everything worse to compare it to. One of the
men thinks it's the words that are never spoken that last
the longest. One has an unnecessary eyepatch and a
heavy Russian accent. Another whispers to the
unblinking trees in the distance about Napoleon, who
idolized Julius Caesar, about Julius Caesar who idolized
Alexander the Great, about Alexander the Great who
idolized Hercules, about Hercules who did not exist.
I'm lost, frozen. I compare you to the first cold shower
after the water heater bursts, to the wilt of a punk's
mohawk by the last song of the all ages show. Even in
darkness this thick from a mile away you can see Erik
Satie peek around the corner, check to see if anyone is
coming. There's always someone coming.

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Copyright © 2011 Jeff Alessandrelli All rights reserved
from eswhwis
Ravenna Press
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission