No Blue Mondays, No Smokey Horns

 
I mourn the loss of those dark, sad clubs
and the blue horns and shiny ebony pianos
that played this river town.

I mourn the passing of those nightspots,
the Playmore, Lucille’s Paradise, Tootie’s
Mayfair, the Antler’s Club and the Century
Club now all gone to un-mowed vacant  lots,
to fading silent memories played out on
scratchy black circles of sound.

I mourn the passing of that lost town,
that once gleaming city on the bluffs
that really lived where now wander
lonely those tuneless streets and ride
the ghostly street cars we’ve paid for twice.

I mourn the death of those clubs, that music,
and the real Kings and Queens of  KC Soul
now  buried deep beneath the HIP-HOPocracy
of the thinly veiled racist facades wholly-owned
subsidiaries of the you-know-who’s–all served up
to us by the phony political hacks that want it all–Family Style!

Yes, I mourn the inevitable ascendancy of the do-gooder,
the bluenose, the prude, the developer and his pal,
the big banker and finally, the glad hand greeter at
the bronze door all knowing so well what’s good for
Our Town..and their bankroll!



-Steve Bridgens