Scissors is sitting under a stoop
the old men are betting
waving their gobs
the suspenders are shouting
at beerspillin’ company
a precarious fold warriors all
cold as you like
coppers on the take
are under the Hill
with bribe teeth
lucky to win at pipesmoke
a bullethole, and raincoats
for the whistlers that fall
the softhand is steady
awaitin’ the turn
in stumbles Jimmy trilby in his cups
that Irish jaw a barnin’
says, “the fix is on the scam boys”
little pictures makes his move
and them pistols did the talkin’
amid the sounds of upturned tables
and girls caught in their garters
that hotel swam an electric pop
you’d go deaf in describin’

the smoke clears as it does
and the third day came and ran
Scissors claimed a legacy
pictures died on the edge of town
and a mope becomes a man

see that boy sitting next to a feedtrack
it was prologues

© Emerys Watchel, 2018 All rights reserved.


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