Fishbone
I found your first
record yesterday—
it looked like the past
& sounded
like the future—
that combo platter I love best
of all. The black grooves gave
way to moans
of horns, yelps,
bass that leapt
like you did
on the cover—bald,
mohawked, knotted
& dreaded, bespoke
& be-hatted, daytime shades
& handkerchiefs
like a bank robber—
plaits & plaids on tweed
like gangster professors.
One of you grins,
most the rest
in mid-air soar.