draft of a new one

Tronics

an army on the road
five nights in Los Angeles
shredding for hours under crimson light
they gutted the codas
and threw griddle hiss into
the frequencies just below ear reach

in the crescent city            
they dropped Playa Playa from the setlist
and built a fire at stage left
til the floor turned to river mud

they cast horns as trumps
and sent young girls
dancing slackjaw toward the aisles
hands reaching to tear the roof off
and send it on skyward

a ripe sweet funk
curling toes til the morning
when brother Jacques watched
a second line coming down Esplanade
piping Blackbird Special into the distance

when they told how
D snapped the mic stand
like an olive branch
and busted through the pantheon
growling at Jimi on the way in

commissioned to
write a dirge for hip-hop
on a paint-splattered reel-to-reel
they packed the heat into buses
and wandered on to
try to shake that load off
roaming the french quarter
sounding the chords to Fall In Love
on a pawn shop Wurlitzer