Issue 12, October 1997
Michael Brackney - 2 Poems

Autumn is Fat Tuesday for
trees. Leaves costume for revel
before days of naked prayer, arms
uplifted.

We dance a ring around the fire
and drink our cup's stew. Tangle
our limbs to recline in chain, and
raise our toast again.

Blooming flowers, the coals press
passionate calls of thanks. We take 
the harvest into our arms, both
crop and composer.

I lay with you all in the wood and moss,
view stars to skin, moist night air, 
attend the sound of breath,
and echoes.

I've been on this street
a while...since Johnson.
What'd Johnson say -
"they're all my helicopters"
girls work this track never kiss 
never kiss

had a lot of money back then
I was young 
a lot of money
Me and Tommy drove past 
the cadillac ranch 
past New Mexico 
to the LBJ ranch
I'm talking L   B   J
the big Kahuna back then, brother
to the front gate

The suits said, What's your name
what's your name!
Tommy From The Coast
he said and just walked     just   walked

gotta get some coffee
sit down have a rest - have a talk
they don't let me in some places
‘round here ‘cause they know 
who I am, you know    who    I     am
When Tommy was here we had the run 
of this street, man
the whole town,  whole   town 
they took Tommy  and locked him up
locked him up     somehwere 
dangerous, you know   locked him up 
From this street straight to 
who knows where - come for me some day 
they like a clean street
clean street
He must've died in there
‘cause dead folks don't come back
and Tommy wouldn't leave here without
me