Chest Bump Bass Detroit

by Shawn Misener

Funky heartbeats hit hard in

chest bump bass Detroit

each crack webbed over Woodward Avenue

treble to the trembling ratty Caddies

soul black as night

dark as the house drummer at Baker's

backbeat thick as bulletproof glass

a hole to put the cash through

a hole to order your Big Mac through

a hole in the road to pocket the rhythm through

they fucking didn't pickup the trash again

come to think of it

there's no fucking garbagemen at all

six blocks of boarded windows

and one house where a stony old lady

waters her flowers with Billie Holiday

blasting from the spicy insides of her flesh

son a superfly

alligator shoe clad

networking man

working a beeper and flip phone

twisting blueberry spliffs

on ma's porch

white dude in a Saturn

cruising anxious

windows up doors locked

sauntering driving circles

scared to ask directions

postapocalyptic blues

a heavy-handed snap and pop

from Bootsy's starchild bass

retro ruins pleading

reverse the crumbling

this city has life dormant

trapped below like Cthulu

waiting to skewer the world with soul