The Three Sister Moons laughed down on The City of Baj’Haii as Geo-Grange Safaris, private investigator to the Hash Tag Celebrities, entered The Hemophiliac’s Intersection – where the blues hounds go to bleed. The club was packed as usual – Monday through Saturday were all a haze of blues days at this spot. The crowds would have shown up Sunday, but you could never find the club on that day, except in Octember, which was a month and a half away.
Up on stage the ghost/psy-loop of Patsy Cline was doing a duet with Big Charlie Freelance Husky-Paw. They were singing The Cherry Blossom Midnight Tuxedo Blues. Paw was wailing it out, while he flicked those keys – it was all piano stairs up. Patsy’s voice haunted everyone’s heart.
So, we burned the desire for happiness,
headed to the pillows,
starting from the place
we started in every morning.
Behold the past,
the past participle of yesterday,
weeping on our shoulders.
A cold castle in protest,
Hungry with assumptions,
Let’s make misfortune smile
at our midnight kisses –
thought those embraces
may always be more unhappy anyhow.
Just a different name
those Cherry Blossom Midnight Tuxedo Blues.
Geo-Grange saw Spider-Sally Fourth standing by the bar. He nodded his head in the private investigator’s direction as they made eye contact. Making his way over to Spider-Sally, Geo-Grange saw others that he was acquainted with, TBH Night, Tallow & Wick, Drum-Yeller Alberta, and Diddley Squatter. All souls looking for the blues to bleed out their sorrows and forgotten dreams.
“Wondered when you would show up. Sorry to hear about, Pluto, Chowder-head Mic loved that dog.” Spider-Sally Fourth shifted on the stool as he put down his drink – the usual Spiced Ripple Metafisika. They all applauded as the song came to an end. Spider-Sally’s jade holograph gown showed off his mega-form, his legs going from here to fading memory. His steel grey optics flashed neon mauve as he took in Geo-Grange, “So whodunit this time ?”
“Still pulling it apart. Maybe The Butler.”
“Thought he uploaded.”
“Always the residual echo. Besides, I think something took out The Embassy.”
“Leaving a famous founder, as an understanding of his majestic understatement ?….. That sounds harsh. Besides, I never cared for semantic waltz fandangos . I hope it is the last two leaves that falls at Moon-rise – the Ohm Monger is still a safe bet, even though at least a little titlist in my opinion!”
Geo-Grange looked carefully at Spider-Sally Fourth. His response was emotional, even for him under the circumstances, always had a soft spot for pets & pet owners, especially dog owners. As he mulled this, he sipped his drink, Moose Mile Vodka, and let the song drift in his ear from the stage .
Didn’t you ask in those 70s,
whose stars are far away from my pillow?
Well, I am tired now.
I will return to you on any day
that it snows in the desert of your desire.
Sang my heart out
with a torrent of dry tears,
when the branches clung to evening.
I will live without your love –
Home is found in the sky –
may you rest in that large crowd
of narrow schemes –
promises made of broken pavement.
Oh how I miss your frozen eyes,
and frosted kisses.
As Geo-Grange turned to look at Spider-Sally, an incandescent ripple spread out over the patrons at the bar. Mezo-cinq Tract, professional photo-bomber, shouted out his birth code and fell over – dead by drowning. Water gushed out from his now pale blue lips. A very small purple catfish flopped about in the thin pool of water – not part of the regular menu. Spider-Sally Fourth was nowhere to be seen. Through the growing murmurs, the sound of a barking dog. Pluto was sitting on stage next to the body of Drum-Yeller Alberta.
Note: Spider Sally Fourth Composition derived from photograph by Josue Bieri on Unsplash. If anyone can not get the tune for one of the songs feature in this narrative out of their head, please contact us and let everyone know what it sounds like.