- Non-Erotic Poetry
- Monkey Night
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simian simplicity barked sweet sound
fingers playing wildly, voice, jammin, lively
sax riveting, trombone filling volumes, slowing time
trumpet bouncing off a steady plucked baseline
Caribbean twang guitar taking you there
a skank swinging crowd without a fucking care
yea, a monkey night
they’re closing our club
but we’re feelin all right
cause Bradley’s about
and Marley’s in our lungs
gotta skank, gotta shout
incongruent vision, sipping on a bottle of
hey, which bar was that? up on fermented love
walking the empty streets of San Jose, drunk on music
skull rattling from the brass jamming, no easy trick
drummer still beating heads and stingy club owners, lumps
like base thumps, nicotine stained fingers bumpin the jumps
yea, a monkey night
they’re closing our club
gonna skank all night
cause Marley’s feelin ire
and Bradley found the beer
out till sun up, never gonna tire
