Poem 470


A fantasy rhapsody about New York life in the fifties as mediated through the story of Dion and the Belmonts … I was obviously going through a Dion phase listening to songs like Love Came To Me or The Majestic

( I like the curtains like dog tongues and the here’s hoping girlfriends … )



Summer Of The Big Murder

Wild kazoo courtesy of Dion
and the boys
the midtown main street brownstone gang
on the corner in the evening
the summer of the big murder
all the windows open panting for breath
curtains sucked in and out
like long low dog tongues
you come out for those beers
because the sky is purple
and there's nothing inside
and Dion sings lead
short and showy
backed by handclaps
the bass falsetto rhythm runs
sidewalk church of doo-wop
and when the electricity cuts
the babies boom
the stores are looted
and shopping carts rumble home
over broken glass
but now while the sun goes down
on ninety-eight degrees that clicked everyone's ticket
with nowhere to hide
Dion and the Belmonts try another one
sort it out there on the street
building the layers of harmony
counterpoint
until it comes together
and the little crowd
the here's hoping girlfriends
the frocks and singlets on the stoops
fanning with magazines
say yeah
they got it
                   listen
and they all listen
and Dion knows they've got it
and the boys know they've got it
attention
before the shadow of the apartment block falls
or the breeze can blow the smell back
everyone in the street shares it
blind and sweet
perfection



Summer Of The Big Murder