Michael Lee Johnson

 

Michael Lee Johnson

 

Juice Box Girl

 

(After Midnight Moments)

 

I'm a juice box girl,

 

squeeze me, play me

 

like an accordion,

 

box-shaped, but gagged edges.

 

Breathe me inside out,

 

I'm nude, fruity, fractured,

 

strawberry melon,

 

nightshade wine.

 

Chicago, 3:00 a.m.

 

somewhere stranded

 

someone's balcony

 

memories undefined,

 

you will find me there

 

stretched naked, doing

 

the Electric Slide,

 

taking morning selfies

 

upward morning into the sun

 

then in shutters

 

closeout pictures

 

Chiquita bananas,

 

those Greek lovers

 

running late,

 

Little Village, Greektown

 

so many men's night faces fading out.

 

Wash cleanse in me.

 

I'm no Sylvia Plath

 

in an oven image of death

 

I resuscitate; I'm still alive.

 

 

 

Tequila (V5)

 

Kick it!

 

Single life is Tequila with a slice of lime,

 

Shots offered my traveling strangers.

 

Play them all deal them jacks, some diamonds

 

then spades, hold back aces play hardball,

 

mock the jokers.

 

Paraplegic aging tumblers toss rocks,

 

Their dice go for the one-night stand.

 

Poltergeist fluid defines another frame.

 

Female dancers in the corner

 

Crooked smiles in the shadows.

 

Single ladies don’t eat that tequila worm

 

dangle down the real story beneath their belts.

 

Men bashful, yet loud on sounds, but right times soft-spoken.

 

Ladies, men lack caring verbs, traitors to your skin.

 

Ladies, if you want the worm, Mescal,

 

don’t be confused after midnight.

 

 

 

Action After Midnight

 

I like a question with historical answers, significance,

 

rolling memories in midnight moon shadow.

 

Daddy told me at 15 nothing good happens after midnight.

 

Niles, Michigan, 1963, cops caught daddy on lover's lane,

 

with his Fruit of Loom, white underwear pulled down,

 

open Kessler Whiskey bottle under his car seat,

 

Nash Rambler, pink, station wagon.

 

2 years later, 1965, $5 weekly allowance, gas 0.29.9 cents a gallon.

 

I drove that Nash Rambler, pink station wagon 2

 

lover's lane, seats laid back, 17, shook the world off-

 

plunged my penis in, baby 9 months later-

 

action after midnight.

 

 

 

In the Moonlight (V2)

 

By Michael Lee Johnson

 

 

 

In the moonlight of yesterday's tears

 

in the sweet waters that flowed from your heart

 

in the cold days, you were always near

 

in this place

 

in my heart

 

warm as my blood

 

clutched in my hands

 

was the warmth of your heart

 

sweet caresses of your love.

 

 

 

Now−

 

last night's moonlight

 

has gone from me,

 

somewhere you are lost

 

in a shadow,

 

in light of another day,

 

gone from me,

 

sweet love those yesterday's tears.

 

 

 

-1969-

 

 

 

Note: poem lost for over 43

 

years-found on an old cassette tape

 

06-13.

 

MICHAEL LEE JOHNSON