Pink Shots. The needle drops, wails Gin and trombones While Erikson plays dice In the mirror and Lucy downs Pink shots of poetry. By 5am we are beasts, Animals on hands and Knees, lapping up red wine Puddles. Together, We flail in the riot like Ragdolls: right place, right time. Tuesdays – 8pm. Slippery John plays trombone In a broken down dive … [Read more...]
Two poems by Benjamin Smith
On the Rocks. That antique gramophone Next to the suffragette lampshade, Marble time measured in Vinyl. Look at the dust-jackets: Mint condition memories. Warped voices warble in slow Speed; 33 and a third, switch to 78, put the needle down, Place it in the wax groove. Get lost in the soundscape. Sunday afternoon; Nina Simone; on the rocks. When We … [Read more...]
