Bar Tales Chapter 2: Glynetta

Posted 8/03/2008 by smartblackboy in Labels: , , , , , , , , , ,

Brandy alexander nights when cinnamon slips past the lips
delicious milky kiss, liquid dreams, jazz bar scene
sippin summertime, texas was easy
living in a jeweled city,
bass guitar color of a peach martini
harmonica cues ragtime rules
scattered applause whenever words go off
holdin the mic cocky like music ain't enough
like you wouldn't trade a trumpet solo for a sculpted ass
like a hundred g's ain't better than jazz

like you don't wish you could be the immaculately dressed
too hot to retire lounge singer
who still has pipes enough to make young women cry
whose grandkids would rather listen to lil wayne
who is tucked away in the corner of a forgotten bar
singin' Stand By Me, holding a cigarette,
glistening as the band jams fun glam
what you wouldn't give to be that real
on nights as quiet as a timpani roll

I go to bars to find God
to find myself a stranger
black man singin Etta James, I like to feel
that blue struggle, the grimy love, interlocking melodies
the tug of war of the soul
the caress of a woman on my back
the unknown comfort of the stranger
those moments when you can sip your favorite drink
and find yourself lost in a breeze of piano chords
the bustle and laughter all around you
when you can be by yourself and still be happy
when you can find out what love really is

those sometimes when you close your eyes
and there are flowers all around you.

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