Poem by Glen Armstrong

Rock and Roll

I was wearing the Garden of Eden.
        My feathered boa hissed.

She was wearing her wine colored dress,
        and when we’d finished the wine,

        surprise,

        she was wearing her sloe gin
        colored bra and panties.

At some point in the evening
        I was hacked apart
        and stuffed inside the jukebox.

Such was the crowd’s adoration,
        oh, sweet intoxication.

The coils of wire in a ‘57
        Les Paul’s pickups ferment
        just as surely as the grape
        or grain gives up its ghost.

And if this little trail of rhinestones
        doesn’t lead me back to the blues,
        I’ll be lost forever.

        When I’m naked with you
        it’s like I’m wearing the entire world,

        and then,

        when we’ve finished each other,
        a world with no direction home.

 

Photography © Allison Goldin
Photography © Allison Goldin

 

Glen Armstrong has had work recently published in in Conduit, Digital Americana and Cloudbank. He edits the poetry journal Cruel Garters.

Allison Goldin is an artist living in Cambridge. Her work is a collection of spontaneous drawings from the imagination. The most common link throughout her art are the semi-recognizable creatures scattered amongst and bringing together the surrounding doodles. She is currently studying Illustration at The School of Museum of Fine Arts, Boston.

 

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