Carpe Diem Blues
by Matt Shaw
Sing your barrel-chest blues,
Hard young man.
Squeeze blue-veined fists,
Kiss cold lips,
Kiss distant lips
Cold.
Shout Hey! to
Proud shadows,
Fall them down with
Hatchet hands
That make the young ones swoon.
Step to sweetness,
Sweat an' pulse an' throb,
Sing an' laugh,
An' when the had's been had,
You know you got to get
Up on that train
An' ride.
Ain't no train gon' run forever.
No man, neither.
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Author's Note
If ever there was a book published posthumously about my work, I suppose this poem would represent what my biographer might call my Langston Hughes phase.
It would have to be posthumous. I would never let a biographer write that I had a Langston Hughes phase.
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Matt, I like this. And I like the homage to Langston. Unusual language here. Nice!