Queens Over Aces

Queens Over Aces

by Jack Merlot

copyright 2009 some rights reserved

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one hand clapping in the sycamore trees
while you’re out mapping the coast
won’t you come back, brother, oh please
I swear that I miss you the most

the Pacific Northwest is the place that she went
and you followed her trail to Portland
and now she acts like you were heaven sent
while I still hang out at Mort’s, Man

but don’t you play your hand, my friend
‘cuz you can’t beat queens over aces
she’s probably smarter than us, in the end
and she can read the look on our faces

in the forest we’d jump in the leaves
make daggers to throw in the hollow
before we met the seven thieves
we’d swagger with lucid bravado

we’d fence with the sabers and masks
and talk of the math of the soil
we’d think of new ways to quicken the tasks
so our chaos could come to a boil

*** musical interlude ***

now my roots are the thinnest of vines
buried under the permafrost
I guess we should have read the signs
we can only wonder what we’ve lost

the josephine smile
the dustbin vinyl
the chimney spirals
to Demeter

and we left our trail
as if we hauled our
spoils of war on
the back of St. Peter

so don’t you play your hand, my friend
‘cuz you can’t beat queens over aces
she’s probably smarter than us, in the end
and she can read the look on our faces

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Special thanks to Jon Simon & Chris Buchanan.

Special thanks to Sam Buchanan.