John Cantey Knight: Two Poems
THE PRICE OF BEEF
First, black leather - then,
royalty:
Marilyn, Marlene,
and Mae; next,
a succession
of twisted imaginations
in tinsel, scales,
and Mylar.
The queens dream.
A cowboy from Dallas
teases
with suede chaps
and dusty jeans that cup
hard, indentations
of cheeks.
Touching the tip
of a gray Stetson, he drawls,
like Coop, "Ma'am"
The MC in drag quips,
"Oh, Honey, polite, too."
Eyes smile as he lights a fag.
Three horny women
and a lesbian
nearby
cream wanting
or wanting to be him.
Tight muscles
that delineate stomach,
arms, and back
tighten
in naked expectation
as judges give
a 10, 10, 10, 10, and 7.
A coiled lasso
slips from his shoulder.
The Marlboro man yodels,
as the price of beef
skyrockets
on the commodities market
Mardi Gras day, 1992.
NO GROUP DISCOUNTS
The back street is dirty concentrate overlooked by signs.
Marked-up merchandise lays in wait beneath
banners proclaiming closeouts, discounts, sales
Garlicky Pakistanis, dour Koreans, passed over Jews
turn off the lights, pull tight the metal grates,
padlock doors, make their escape. Busted streetlights
darken the unmarked corners. A drunk
stumbles aimlessly as a marquee displays suggestively
All Ladies Drink for Free and Amateur Night.
She waits by the bar's entrance where a flourescent flash
enhances the skirt's red vinyl. Thick lips exhale
a blue haze. The XXX across the street cards a cursing trio.
Like a mother calling boys home, she sings,
"I've got what you guys need." The oldest lights weed
in the seedy hotel room above a nasty all-night diner.
She shoots up on filthy sheets. "I don't give no
group discounts. Pay up, now. Which of youse is first?"
John Cantey Knight has been published in many small press poetry publications including The Birmingham Poetry
Review, Amelia, Black Water Review, Devil Blossoms, Eidos, and tripwire. He is a former Georgian currently residing
in New Orleans.
