© Steve King
All rights reserved
The thumping of the bass-man
speaks a-common with my heart:
I am but a pair of anxious feet
milling in the rhythmic stampede
just waiting for the rock and roll to start...
The face of my enraptured partner
bends in the mix of sight and sound and smoke.
It is the blessed imagery
of the creed of the almighty flesh,
in an ionized cathedral
where twelve-bar hymns are spoke.
I will forgive the critics
of this sometimes less-than-art.
I leave to them the objects
that bemuse their higher powers,
those subtler fantasies
fit for idling daylight hours.
But for now there is a wonder
and a powerful delight
in mimicking the thunder
of this strange and wild night.
And until the night is over
and those critics make me see,
this devil with the blue dress on **
is good enough for me.
** With a 'thank you' to Shorty Long and Mitch Ryder…
