Snakes, Sinners & Beautiful Losers

 

All the snakes and sinners

scarfed their VD dinners

in the back of Leonard’s caravan

the dodgy lyric thief

provided flatulent relief

in the key of P

diluting ‘I’m Your Man’

 

They got tangled in a twister

with mercy’s little sister

as the sailor sipped his wine

and soaped their feet

a tower of song came down

on his thorny, rusted crown

until the prophet poet

floated down the street

 

Came a sweeping machine

At closing time on the scene

the end of love danced to

by the keepers of the pen

there’s a crack in everything

where the light gets in to sing

though everybody knows

who, by fire, will rise again

 

The limo shifted in reverse

they left behind the nurse

when she refused

to wear mourning black

so, they locked her in the van

oh well, so long, Marianne

she’ll just laugh and cry

till the gypsy boy comes back

 

The partisan opened fire

on every bird on a wire

as a feathered frenzy

rained down from above

and every single rat in

the borough of Manhattan

came to testify

‘there ain’t no cure for love’

 

Out, the prophet passed

from debts he had amassed

the poet's voice

had uttered one last sigh

as the gospel ghost revival

failed to procure his survival

they chanted, ‘hey

that’s no way to say goodbye’

 

The eulogies were spent

in some ragged woman’s tent

sewn from torn blue raincoats

without a decent liner

the grieving party was unnerved

until a light repast was served

of tea and oranges

all the way from China

 

And the vermin remained loyal

to sermons from Mount Royal

while David, once again

plucked his secret chord

leaving them a major gift

that a minor couldn’t lift

but none of them

would ever please the lord

 

Suzie is no longer hot

her perfect body gone to pot

but the saints line up

drunk enough to do her

snakes and sinners in the grass

kiss her half-crazy ass

and ring the bell

that still tolls ‘hallelujah’

 

 

s. paul 

(rewrite Feb. 2024)