Dawn of the Mexico City Blues

by jotadavida

Posted to Poetry on 2001-12-20 06:57:00

Parent message is 79372
We discovered Buddy the Wino deep in the Bowery
Brought him along with us up to Allen’s place
Jack unrolled Mexico City Blues
one long scroll of shelving paper
Allen would read a poem and Buddy,
slugging back Tokay, would say
“Yeah, that’s pretty nice. I can dig that.
That’s nice. That’s all right.”
Then, when Jack would read his poems
Buddy, slapping his knees would scream with laughter
wigged out, cracking up, rolling on the floor
the misery, the suffering, the torture of it all
drinking, trying to stay sober
Buddy the Wino was bombed
beatified
and Jack knew it
knew he was drinking himself to death
but, still Jack was a ball
except for all the Colonel Blimps in the world
hating Jack and carping: “That shit isn’t writing”
“Where is that moron” “I want to meet that fuck”
and that was Jack’s trip
Women wanted to fuck him
Men wanted to fight him
Me and Buddy, we just liked listening to him
singing his Mexico City Blues on the floor
man, I’m telling you, that roll of Jack’s
that fucker must have been thirty six feet long
so here I am
rolling along in the angelheaded dawn
the evil angry city shining, softened under a new day sun
the kind that only garbagemen and whiskey bums
and guys like Buddy the Wino
ever see and truly understand