Tuesday, August 23, 2011

The Complete History of the Blast

 Jesse S. Mitchell



The Complete History of the Blast

This is Oppenheimer’s future.  Big city, bright lights America.  Autocrats and laundromats, self-service stations and fireworks.  Liquid cooled patriotism, rows of knees that jerk…all in one direction and then again in another.  Highway miles under the margarita mixers, ugly smells, pretend you’ll smother.

Rattlecage Saltzman was a tenderfoot bluesman
Who every night would play at the guitar,
He would strum up and he would strum down…
He made a helluva sound
But he never did get very far.
Playing through the broken glass
Of broken windows,
He would sing out your name 
Whenever you would speed past

I get so tired of looking this world in the eyes, blink blink, I get so tired of staring back into blurs of someone else‘s passing bys.  And I get so very tired of these words, making them go so neatly together.  When I speak to you, you should know me better.  Boom boom, spider light, drowning out the moonlight.

Kitten Cabochon, the royal heiress,
As a lady she was scarce
But with the rare wave of her hand,
She was a highly approachable princess.
Had the loudest voice in all the land,
Had a sound like gravel, gravel and sand.

This is rocketship radio, rattle and hum, rattle and fuzz.  Rocketship radio transistor hum and buzz.  Space age, arms race, computer face, Artificial this, artificial that, can’t help you if you can’t dance.  This Oppenheimer’s America.  Better to misbehave.  Doesn’t matter, nothing here will be saved.

And when the two got together
It was the biggest ball
Wouldn’t have done no good
At all
If it wasn’t for his southern accent,
Grace notes like chalk split all over the wall,
This is the complete history of 
The blast
And none of it, accident.

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