Classic Poem

Nymph and shepherd raise electric tridents
glowing red against the plaster wall,
The jukebox beating out magic syllables,
A line of painted boys snapping fingers
& shaking thin Italian trouserlegs
or rough dungarees on big asses
bumping and dipping
ritually, with no religion but the
old one of cocksuckers
naturally, in Kansas center of America
the farmboys in Diabolic bar light
alone stiff necked or lined up
dancing row on row like Afric husbands
& the music's sad here, whereas Sunset Trip or
Jukebox Corner it's ecstatic pinball machines—
Religiously, with concentration and free
prayer; fairy boys of the plains
and their gay sisters of the city
step together to the center of the floor
illumined by machine eyes, screaming drumbeats,
passionate voices of Oklahoma City
chanting No Satisfaction
Suspended from Heaven the Chances R
Club floats rayed by stars
along a Wichita tree avenue
traversed with streetlights on the plain.