Bluebird chimes and cafe checks


Motor me and wreck me through;
you caught me up; you sung by night.

The wild sky reach and glass of wine; the sip of air –
so crisped and shatter. It sounds like spiked drink up and
ladies bare all.

Push the temp for accurate sensation, pulse gone wild
and feel the rumble. You can bite some asphalt;
the road-worn acts; let’s freak.

Now it makes sense?

Or are you woken with bluebird chimes and cafe checks?
Knocked from drawer; pah dumph peashé – a cashier death –
with last-time thoughts of wants and sips.

2010 Barry Comer – Illustration 2015

Categories: Art, beat poetry, Cafe Sketches, Deconstructed Vespa, drawing, dreams, scooter, VespaTags: , , , , , , , , , , ,

Barry Comer

I volunteer as a design and communications consultant with Family Scholar House in Louisville, Kentucky, the Democratic Socialists of America and teach children with emotional and developmental disabilities.

I have degrees in art and was an art director for 30 years.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s