Texas Storm Warning

An annoyance of grackles

Singing seven passions

In the closed room heat

Of an Austin afternoon

Long spindly legs hopping

Purple to black, in the frockcoat sheen

Of top hat Texas gothic

Calling down the storm

In this river rounded city

Of skeletal skyscrapers rising

A gathering of ghosts has come

Howling down Congress and San Jacinto

From freak beat shacks

And airstream outlaws

Riding city buses from the penitentiary

Saying ‘any day’s a good day, when you’re out of jail’

Faces staring from the sidewalk

Voodoo herbs and fetish dolls

Sprawled beneath the rollercoaster of I-35

A death’s head icon

Spilling dollar bills

There is turbulence and darkness

Thunder booms across the plains

Extreme weather moving in, be

Prepared to seek shelter soon

The timelords stand in circles, velvet

Suits and spikes of colour, beamed in

From the Vulcan, Armadillo

Butterflies swarm upon the

Supersonic highway

And some rough beast is slouching

Out of memory and myth and causing

Pressure drop, temporal drag

Watch the old men meet again

Lords of electricity

Channelled through peyote earth

And whitewashed Institution walls

They came in on tornadoes riding

To the psychic vortex of

This down home second coming born

Of stone jug oscillations, born

Of existential mathematics

Swallowing the sacrament

Come on- let it happen

Because you cannot judge the music

Come on, let it happen

For the music will judge you

Come on let it happen

You must take it all on trust

Come on let it happen

Let it happen to you

Sing I’m not coming home now

I’m not coming home

I’m not coming home

No I’m not coming home

(From Brighton Vortex, (c) 2015).


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