Speakeasy

The band vamped,
sunlight leaving—Sequined,

Delilah Redbone swung
her hardships & sang—

Sporting my lucky
hundred-proof cologne

I listened hard at the bar
as the house lights dimmed—

Rich widows passed matches
with messages in the flaps

Weary husbands with ring-
worn hands sweated

Like their drinks, getting up
the nerve to ask.

I tossed a few back

The band cranked, sharp,
trumpet neath a hat—

Glasses & dance
cards empty, ladies winked

For a light so often
—Say, mister—

You'd think you were
the election-year mayor

Handing out favors.
Every joe here

Named John or Jack
or Hey You or Doe—

My answer, mostly, No.

Another round & the band
blew its medley midnight

Husbands hugged
their mistresses tighter

And she scat till the moon
caught itself

In the trees like a balloon
let go by a child, crying,

At the county fair.
My saltwater

Shotglass. My flask

Full of lighter fluid.
The piano boogied twilight

She sang & swooned & the sun
started up

An argument with what was left
of the dark—

The swingshift stumbled out
The graveyard drug in thirsty

& worse. Delilah sang on

About hearts that break like high-note
glass—or jaws—

That break more than men
in the mob-run union.

The band beat louder
passing a hat, damping

Foreheads with uh-huhs
& handkerchiefs

While Miss Redbone sang:

Lord, I'm afraid
Woah, so afraid

I done married Mud
& took on his name.