Just Another Evening in Paradise

The Kings of Leon could still use somebody, Caleb sings in his Kurt Cobain voice

& the Kurdish Freedom Fighter comes on too strong to Lynne, wanting to whisk her away with his Hindu Kush eyes

& the woman with the Mastiff shoulders walks past in her low cut dress

& sniggering sneer

& Des starts knock knock  knocking on Heaven’s Door again because he knows we’re all here and I tell him to get back in his box coz you’re in the undiscovered country from whose bourne .. well, you know the rest

while Ruth limps off to the Ladies and Ted calls after her, that’s the best part of you gone,

and Sirocco knocks over his second glass of red on the white table cloth and Jarrod frowns and Gerry rushes over

and Max is cuddling Peter in the corner and the mulberry mutt mourns for its owner outside the window

& I’m talking much too loud but I’m in my cups And I tell the funny story about the pony walking into a bar again and I won’t be put down like a mad dog

& an officer from the penitentiary phones and says, no, Ades cannot be let out because it’s a Friday night

& we’re going round and round like skid marks on tarmac

& it’s just another Friday night in Paradise

47 thoughts on “Just Another Evening in Paradise

  1. I love this. Evocative of similar nights I remember from my dive bar days—but unique like each night is, with it’s own flavor. Was just saying yesterday how much I miss going to shows. My last one was Iron and Wine. Sitting in my backyard and you made me wonder what my next one will be.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Your detailed account just stirred my old memories, when we knew no limits and the tables were making under our alcoholic consumption, the allowance we gave ourselves to ve stupid and outrages. that was all before the high blood pressure pills and heart diseases put an end to all. thank you for giving me a piece of your paradise.

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  3. Hi John, love the Kings of Leon, and hope your poetry comes to life in my part of the world once again.
    We are still very much in lockdown unfortunately.
    The hustle and bustle of paradise, or even something that would hardly resemble it is welcome at this point.
    Keep well, lovely
    eden

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  4. It sounds chaotic but comfortable. Like swimming in a washing machine. Okay maybe not that. Maybe if you threw all the clothes from your house into your smallish back sized pool and did some laps with them. You know they won’t hurt you. So it’s safe. But a bit of a weird mix. 🙂. That’s how I felt in your poem.

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  5. Love how the musical menagerie mixes with the real players. Cups in you can capture it all, John, ncluding your own spot as jokester, and comfortable confidant. Kinda like the Piano Man, writing the melody for all of us.

    Liked by 1 person

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