IT ALL STARTED IN A RHAPSODY IN BLUETHROATS
At first you hear nothing but the alley cat calls,
then you start to hear the orchestra.
I’m running on a winding staircase
in an MC Escher labyrinth in my black wife-beater
with a ball of string.
The Andrew Sisters sing
an Edward Gory carole.
Ma belts how she don’t like no mens.
And Maxine, an angel if ever
there is one anywhere
in heaven and earth
raises that joyful noise unto the Lord,
a psalm by Yevhen Hrebinka.
Then Bogan has a sweargasm
on the radio that would
have made even Beethoven blush.
She always had the stones
to cast the first one in
the whispering eye of the storm.
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SCOTT JONATHAN NIXON‘s poetry, reviews and articles have appeared in New Plains Review, Di-verse-city, Grasp Magazine, Rakish Angel, The Prague Post and other places. He has lived in Prague since 2007.
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