grew up in airy rumble seats
and behind stage curtains sagging
candy whiskey milk were my foods
candy fed my sweetness the day
whiskey kept me wild every night
mama said milk was good for bones
mama married cute stage hand young
I was their tagalong kid but
they split never saw him again
growing kid I didn't know where
and really that why would I care
back of my mind don't marry young
mom my idol wished I were her
bought a bible for me to read
just didn't want to marry young
didn't do that now on the stage
my kid she eats chicken nuggets
with her milk while I'm on the stage
new orleans bourbon street perform
"preacher lady from bowery"
- - -
- Poem Copyright, Jimmiehov 2021, All Rights Reserved
- - - Photo prompt from Shay, a.k.a. Fireblossom, at Sunday Muse #186, http://thesundaymuse.blogspot.com/2021/11/sunday-muse-186-illusion.html?m=1 , read about this lady, a Louise Brooks look alike, there.
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This is awesome. I love reading about the flapper era.
ReplyDeleteMy favorites:
“grew up in airy rumble seats”
“candy whiskey milk”
“mom my idol / bought a bible”
the last couplet
candy whiskey milk! Those are some food groups.
ReplyDeleteI really enjoyed this poem Jim!! Wishing you a wonderful weekend!
ReplyDeletejim! this is excellent, i love the phrasing, the tone and tempo. i can;t sigle any lines out to quote, they're all great, really well done, love this!
ReplyDeleteA stream of consciousness moves through the poem. How one wants the other not to make the same mistake. A diaspora of generation!
ReplyDeleteGreat poem, Jim.
Very interesting, the way the thoughts stream along you took us into your head.
ReplyDeleteHappy Sunday
Much💛love
Agree that this has a good sense of an itinerant life with an audience before and behind.
ReplyDeleteJim, this is fascinating and totally entertaining!! Cheers.
ReplyDeleteI can well imagine the backstage life of the child of a flapper mom. Well done, Jim.
ReplyDelete"candy whiskey milk were my foods" great line!
ReplyDeleteWonderful, Jim! The rhythm is excellent.
ReplyDelete