Bending the Floorboards

Electric fiddle sounds test, test test
ce micro fonctionne-t-il?
beige pawpaw coveralls and ochre sideburns
holy obelisk of black plastic succubus
last thimble of golden whiskey goes
into the warm core of me, my silted southern soul

wet shirt plastered to my back like the
cocktail napkin around this empty glass
swimming current of collected dancers
cradled in cocaine adoration canaille with
enough courage twirling an imported
stranger impaired together in the mad
throws of a two-step mosh pit, fall
apart into madness, recover

long drawl of the calling accordion's lonely
note, allons danseurs!
illuminative smell of human celebration
delicate bones bely the frailty of existence
a perfect happiness
god on the slopes of sweating shoulders bracing
for the coming sleuth of ancestral prayer
forgoing the pleasantries, never knowing
her name
slice of the fiddle and the drummer counts -
un, deux, trois
she finds my hand before I can say hello.

TA