Jazz Music poetry Short Stories Uncategorized

the prince of pomade

pulaski potentate
bean counter
seed spreader
castle painter
son of a
renaissance artist king
who wore suits during the depression
and died for his penchant
for other men’s wives
your paterfamilias
your model of manhood
shot dead when you were only three
over 1943 chaos theories
yet he was still your roadmap
to the waiting world
little indian boy
you grew to be
a brilliant man born in a place
where it was not fashionable to be so
a man electric
deliberately reckless
driving a chevy
california king size
listening to johnny cash
gypsy eyes
white lightning charisma
how you swaggered
neon motel monarch
an inconstant king
too beautiful to be unforgiven
how you laid waste to yourself
in a canadian mist
bourbon breath
suited the curl on your forehead
you made the driest county wet
a pardon me miss may i smile
wing tips
and lucky strikes
the prince of pomade
aspiring saint
daddy do you know
your children
have lost the mineral rights
to their own bones

6 replies on “the prince of pomade”

He kept a close watch on that hair of his…it was, afterall, his shiny crown!
Absolutely Splendid work!

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