John Dillinger at White Castle

Poisoned in the balls and shot in the
back

Leans against the glass smoking

And in the red light plays the blues

The blues that ask

Is this all we’ve become

Or will this all make sense later?




He’s drunk and hungry and he’s here

He holds his pistol close

And sings these blues well

His brim tipped back

To reveal the eyes of destruction

In their most raw impulse

He wears the best tailor made suits

He plays a wicked slide

He makes his mother shake with disbelief

He rides a fireball of gonorrhea

He kills cops after the crash

A king who robbed from the rich

And slept in cornfields

Back in the black and white world

Betrayed by a hooker

That’s the way it usually happens – isn’t
it?




John Dillinger is buying them by the sack

And sips his bottle

The shouts from passing cars

Hey Dillinger – you stupid son a bitch

And they drove away quickly

He did not care

He ignored the remark

And blew hypnotic smoke rings

In a busy world