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Picture Credits: http://www.efbweb.org/topics/genetic/menu2_1.htm
His musical fusion baptized me in drops of fluted rain
Brief showers of reprieve, escaping back-to-back
Spreading codeine roses on my frazzled nerves, I felt no lack
A warm caress of juniper jazz offset winter’s cold refrain
He was a modern jongleur, not a local boy
Slightly aristocratic, a pied-piper calling to all giggling girls
His dark brown eyes were jack-light; crescent beams, nocturnal
Hot ticket to the inner climes; pain-embedded sorrows, needle-pricks of joy
He played each night at Lizzard’s Lounge, a small-town college dive
Morphine music, cigarettes and beer its main-room staples
But when his midnight set was over, we walked beneath the green-leaved maples
To the Snakeskin River’s breadth, and rowed across its twisting water; serpentine alive
The deserted prison’s chain-link fence cast criss-cross shadows, daunting
Mist engulfed us in its chilling swirl; no amenities, abysmal strangling
“ If you listen hard enough, you can hear the metal locks a clanging. ”
Crumbling steps lead to the narrow cells below; prisoner’s enclosure, haunting
We found the empty warden’s office, just one lonely file in the records drawer
The convicted felon’s name was Johnny Criolo, notorious gangster from the thirty’s
Prostitution, gambling and narcotics high upon his rap sheet; his moll, Gertie
Sold him out to his bitter rival, Kingpin of New Orleans; Kristoff St. Delamore
There were no other papers, no wanted poster pictures we could find
So we played games of ‘hide and seek’ and ‘catch me if you can’ by flashlight
Laughing, shouting, raising cain and holy terror until 3 am; a fool’s delight
We beheld a gruesome specter, “ I see you don’t remember me. That’s so unkind. ”
We ran for hours in circled mazes, but our footsteps quickly slowed
Exhausted in delirium tremens; agitated with hallucinations, withdrawal’s angel
Shivers, shakes, and shudders permeated every drawn-in breath, unstable carousel
No deliverance from Satan’s three-ring circus, his underworld abode
His rotting flesh began to change into curly hair so black, and his bright blue eyes
Reminded me of someone that I used to know; my heart and soul atremble
The sawed-off shotgun in his hands said he held us both accountable
For all misfortunes in his life; we had nowhere left to hide, no offered alibis
Confined to solitary brought about a major change, portal to the depths of hell
Raucous laughter, couples dancing, ragtime piano plays the Devil’s Blues
Getting rich off other people’s misery, false hope in quarts of bootleg booze
We never knew what hit us; Criolo’s Massacre, machinegun decibel
Blood is gushing, guts are spewing; the Kristoff Club is bleeding red
Sirens wailing, coppers coming, illegal nights are never filled with silence
Lead reporters on the scene, grisly photographs have a major audience
New Orlean’s mob boss and his girlfriend killed, city morgue claims 50 dead
Life is nothing more than just a circle, expanding into widening ripples
No beginnings; the endings are un-knowable, except in certain cases
The Grim Reaper had specific duties, rules and regulations in his briefcase
The summer months came right on time, our untimely deaths kept to the schedule
His musical fusion baptized me in drops of fluted rain
Brief showers of reprieve, escaping back-to-back
Spreading codeine roses on my frazzled nerves, I felt no lack
A warm caress of juniper jazz offset winter’s cold refrain
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