The Lobby Muses
WAITING ROOM VIGIL
Fripping pages, or breathed into you
falling among skipped paragraphs
they come in a fog, the lobby muses,
mental authorities of the universe
engaged in a street funk ringing groove
tireless, flowing, invented word by word
an elevator jazz sounding tip-of-the-tongue
from a vague record collection,come to be obeyed, perched behind you,
found on fortune's dark underside label;
one more old voice warning of a new voice.Mindless, blind in one ear, they let you
grope in cocktail napkin land,
arrange that meeting with your lost otherness;
let you turn off the nav-sat chip set
revert to gong tone chanting rites or
the cosmic release of distant neon
and all those private sirens still
trapped inside their ancient rainbows.
ŠJimmy Warner Design, 2011
