Prohibition

Photo by Pat Corrigan

 

somebody’s ride
died a long time ago
sworn to silence
as all good dead
bootleggers must
heady days bumping
trails where the
coppers were paid
not to keep their
appointments with
justice sweet times
before rust grew
from weeds and
real steel before
real rubber tires
dissolved in the dirt
wild speakeasy years
when staunch patriots
danced in the
boneyards of barren
authority flouting its
artifice governing
public morality

 

 

From my book Bohemian Scents