The Mohawk Club

Mohawk Artwork by CHU www.schudio.co.uk


The Mohawk Club

to gothamsterdam
city clouds curl
like hair parting
to reveal grey root

platinum breaking
through air
to reveal silver
streaking down

solid rays bouncing
off the puddles
street amber
tiger lightning
shattered glass
that stinky moon
eclipsed by rolling
snatching the eye

cracked street light
the car lamp &
reefer torch
burning the other
out in the night a red
streak of light
designates the
club: Mohawk

pot smoke blows
from tangled with jazz
steam seeping out

skidoobie blam
from the doorway
a rocket launch site
wings flap n’ flutter
new squawrk

bop music lifting up
up up town up
escape into air

buildings nearby
sway loose from their
footing notes
and rise up again
steamin’ with gargoyles
they break loose to the
beat away from the grey
concrete holds

sprouting feathers
bright green &
toucan yellow
big chief pink & gold

gracefully leaping off
into dark skies
looping like Monk

tiny pieces of the city
pulled away in the night
inside the club
it’s hip under hazy
lemon light
the honey-bop drips
juss’ keep on jumpin

leap frog kangaroos
peeps jiggin’ &
movin’ so hard
the floor boards
wriggle loose
bop bop

blam boom
doors & windows
poppin’ in their
frames musical
flames lap ears of
harlem cats

wreckin the joint
the wooden stage
an amplifier
be-bop battery power
surrounded by schmaze
of musical mojos

the club a
living moseum
exotic objects
resonate to music
the players play
a seemingly ad-hoc
collection of artefacts
from africa india asia
the Caribbean
the americas
& Indonesia
crammed into

one room covering every
inch of wall space
a pink mardi gras
Indian head dress
five pots of Robert Johnson
snake oil
perch on the shelf

several rusty
saxophones hooked
over water pipes
like docked space craft

a bunged-up
silver tuba
hunches behind the bar
a mirrored ice bucket

two trombones
hang from shark teeth
trumpets & clarinets
double as flower vases
on turntable tables

a native indian
looms large
like jupiter behind
the stage
shells beads belts
& wires hang from
all quarters snaking the
original sheet music
portraits of jazz masters
handmade flyers hang
behind smoke tinted
glass in various
frames crooked &
dusty books
embroidered with shells
& reeds
guitar picks crocodile
teeth piano
keys ostrich feathers
& white buffalo hair

to the left a
double bass pulses
like a whale heart
spitting out notes
from its huge
bass-clef gut

swinging around a
spike-axis firmly rooted
into the ‘C’ flatted floor
a human ear
shaped instrument

a bulging be-bop
swaying to the up
tempo uptown music

the horse chestnut
upright has viper tooth
tuning fangs
atop its snake
head head head

a hybrid trap kit
sits centre stage
kick oil drum
catch the beat

get hi
hat stand from old
gun barrels
hi-hat cymbals from turkey
crash china symbols
viper head sticks
& mohawk punk

to the right
of stage the turn
tables sit atop
a grand piano
the dj rig
includes a raven
headed diamond
tipped stylus

recycled confederate
gun surplus
a tomahawk mixer
dreams of vinyl
records nailed to walls
nicotine patches
where some were
pulled down
& played and never

beside turntables
a small glockenspiel
silver bullet keys
split the eye in two

a microphone
stand of gun parts
mixed with
three tomahawks

some guitar strings
peppered with bright
& sea shells
the microphone

a shaved viper head
with a mohawk
its tail wiggling off
toward the sound

who or what is going
to take stage here
tonight in this
shrine to creativity

here underground
in gothamsterdam
just after 4:20
in the morning
--Steve Fly
08/13 Amsterdam,
Edited 13/12/13.

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