SANCTUARY
Big Red’s Cruel Demise
”I woke up real dead—
deader than an old doornail
I like REAL dead.”
“The band in the bar—
“Nearer, My God, To Thee” they
Were playing for me.”
“A drunk whore came in—
Wearing a pretty red dress
Thru the barroom door.”
“Whoopee,” she shouted—
“So long, Red! You’re in hell now!
Where you belong, dear!”
“That’s okay, honey!—
I’ll be there pretty soon too!
I’m comin’ home soon!”
“I’ll be there before—
You can reach Little Rock!!!
See ya there, honey!!!”
“Shhhhhh!!!” the voices said—
“Clump clump clump!!!” all the feet went.
The party was on.”
“They were already—
Drunk, surging & clamoring
Dancing all night long.”
“Gangway!!! Gangway!!!”—
A couple of soiled young men
Barging their way in.”
“They hauled it all in—
Suitcases full of nice gin
For my funeral.”
“Over it all came—
The rich blare of a cornet
Soothing my frayed nerves.”
“Stormy weather blew—
Thundering & raining hard
A devilish night.”
“C’mon folks!!!” she cried—
Miss Reba wiping her tears
Snot down from her nose.
“R-e-e-e-e-e-d-d-d-d-d!!!” the whore cried—
Weeping & pushing her way
To all the free gin.”
“They all took a look—
Me laid out in my coffin
My bullet hole plugged.”
“Hole in my forehead—
Still oozing formaldehyde
Where Popeye shot me.”
“Plugged up really nice—
With an embalmer’s wax plug
Kinda black & blue.”
“He looks real pretty,”—
Temple Drake said so sadly
Wishing I were back.”
“Oh baby, we sure—
Had some good times back there in
Miss Reba’s joint, hmmm?”
“That made me feel kinda—
Sad knowing she liked me good
She was a nice fuck.”
“If only that old—
Rickety brass-bed could talk
It had lots of class.”
“Temple fit nice—
Vile Memphis venality
Just her cup of tea.”
“Both of us nekkid—
Like a couple of hot snakes
Writhing all night long.”
“Popeye holding on—
Tight to the brass-bed railings
Howling at the moon.”
“All I can say is—
I may be a stiff right now
But oh baby doll!”
“I was really stiff—
All the goddamn fuckin’ way
Back then with Temple.”
“Folks!!! Folks!!! He shouted—
The barroom proprietor
“Please calm yourselves down!!!
“Have you no manners?—
There’s a bier in this barroom!!!
Show some respect, hmmm?”
“Beer!!! Beer???” Miss Reba—
Shouted even more loudly.
“It’s plain insulting!”
“C’mon folks, we got—
Whiskey & gin—the real stuff.
Let’s drink up to Red!!!”
“Alabama Boy—
The best Southern gentleman
That gawd ever laid!!!”
”The orchestra played—
The weeping gin flowed & flowed
The black male band played.”
“They sang Sonny Boy—
They were in vaudeville drag
Such burlesque routines!”
“Singing just for me—
Knowing how much Popeye loved
Me as his chauffeur.”
“Driving all night around—
Memphis in his sleek big black
Packard—dressed to kill.”
“Doing Mardi Gras—
Like a French Quarter old whore
Me his right-hand man.”
“It seems like only—
“Yesterday, me as Popeye’s
Handsome male chauffeur.”
“But look at me now—
Just look at me—a poor
Dead son of bitch.”
“Laying here in a
Barroom speak-easy coffin
With nothin’ to do.”
”A big fight breaks out—
Over by the crap table
A bad argument.”
“Get that goddamn corpse—
Outta here!!!” somebody shouts.
A drunken ruckus.”
“Suddenly outta—
The blue the bouncer shows up
Then there’s a scuffle.”
“Pandemonium—
Bursts of filthy language
mixed with the sad tunes.”
“Tearful old trumpet—
Blaring sad spirituals
Played by a black man.”
“Somebody hurls it—
A wreath from my coffin top
And then another.”
“Before long hell starts—
Dancers getting trampled bad
There on the dance floor.”
“The band stops playing—
It’s just awful what happens
To my nice sad wake.”
“Right in the middle—
“I Can’t Give You Anything
But Love Baby Girl.”
Band members standing—
On their chairs during the fight
No more music now.”
“They’re just holding—
Their instruments & themselves
Above the mad fray.”
”The big ole bouncer—
One of my best friends back then
Whirls around the most.”
“Unbelievable—
His celerity & skill
Troublemakers fly!”
“Smashing into my—
Coffin up against the wall
I could feel it teeter!”
“Right there on the edge—
Off the table I now slide
Down into the mob.
“Catch it!!!” the worried—
Proprietor shouts but it’s
Too late, down I go.”
“My coffin bounces—
Down the steps of the band stage
Spilling me nicely.”
“Smoothly, sedately—
My face there on the dance floor
Lookin’ up at them.”
“Play something!!!” he bawls—
The distraught proprietor
Waving his long paws.”
“Play something—quick!—
C’mon, play anything now!!!”
But the black band ran.”
”There I was down there—
With all the clomping, stomping,
Kicking, drunken feet!”
“All I could hear was—
Their footsteps trampling down there
With my cold dead heart.”
“The painted wax plug—
Embalmer’s wax embedded
In the bullet hole.”
“It popped right outta—
My forehead like a neat cork
Over the dance floor.”
“The hole kinda oozed—
Like fizzy champagne oozes
Outta a bottle.”
“The bullet hole that—
Popeye shot in my poor head
As I fucked Temple.”
“I was too good for—
My own good making Popeye
Green with jealousy.”
”I could hear the hearse—
And Packards & Cadillacs
Making their escape.”
“It was time to get—
The show on the road out to
The cemetery.”
“A nondescript line—
Sleek sedans with lowered shades,
Taxis & roadsters.”
“Joining us as we—
Make our way down thru Memphis
Out to the graveyard.”
“I’m ready now for—
A little peace and quiet
Gawd, I deserve it.”
“Miss Reba, Minnie—
Temple, Popeye, Miss Myrtle,
Miss Lorraine, Uncle Bud.”
“They’re sad to see me—
Done & over but I’m glad
To get rid them.”
Big Red’s Cruel Demise
”I woke up real dead—
deader than an old doornail
I like REAL dead.”
“The band in the bar—
“Nearer, My God, To Thee” they
Were playing for me.”
“A drunk whore came in—
Wearing a pretty red dress
Thru the barroom door.”
“Whoopee,” she shouted—
“So long, Red! You’re in hell now!
Where you belong, dear!”
“That’s okay, honey!—
I’ll be there pretty soon too!
I’m comin’ home soon!”
“I’ll be there before—
You can reach Little Rock!!!
See ya there, honey!!!”
“Shhhhhh!!!” the voices said—
“Clump clump clump!!!” all the feet went.
The party was on.”
“They were already—
Drunk, surging & clamoring
Dancing all night long.”
“Gangway!!! Gangway!!!”—
A couple of soiled young men
Barging their way in.”
“They hauled it all in—
Suitcases full of nice gin
For my funeral.”
“Over it all came—
The rich blare of a cornet
Soothing my frayed nerves.”
“Stormy weather blew—
Thundering & raining hard
A devilish night.”
“C’mon folks!!!” she cried—
Miss Reba wiping her tears
Snot down from her nose.
“R-e-e-e-e-e-d-d-d-d-d!!!” the whore cried—
Weeping & pushing her way
To all the free gin.”
“They all took a look—
Me laid out in my coffin
My bullet hole plugged.”
“Hole in my forehead—
Still oozing formaldehyde
Where Popeye shot me.”
“Plugged up really nice—
With an embalmer’s wax plug
Kinda black & blue.”
“He looks real pretty,”—
Temple Drake said so sadly
Wishing I were back.”
“Oh baby, we sure—
Had some good times back there in
Miss Reba’s joint, hmmm?”
“That made me feel kinda—
Sad knowing she liked me good
She was a nice fuck.”
“If only that old—
Rickety brass-bed could talk
It had lots of class.”
“Temple fit nice—
Vile Memphis venality
Just her cup of tea.”
“Both of us nekkid—
Like a couple of hot snakes
Writhing all night long.”
“Popeye holding on—
Tight to the brass-bed railings
Howling at the moon.”
“All I can say is—
I may be a stiff right now
But oh baby doll!”
“I was really stiff—
All the goddamn fuckin’ way
Back then with Temple.”
“Folks!!! Folks!!! He shouted—
The barroom proprietor
“Please calm yourselves down!!!
“Have you no manners?—
There’s a bier in this barroom!!!
Show some respect, hmmm?”
“Beer!!! Beer???” Miss Reba—
Shouted even more loudly.
“It’s plain insulting!”
“C’mon folks, we got—
Whiskey & gin—the real stuff.
Let’s drink up to Red!!!”
“Alabama Boy—
The best Southern gentleman
That gawd ever laid!!!”
”The orchestra played—
The weeping gin flowed & flowed
The black male band played.”
“They sang Sonny Boy—
They were in vaudeville drag
Such burlesque routines!”
“Singing just for me—
Knowing how much Popeye loved
Me as his chauffeur.”
“Driving all night around—
Memphis in his sleek big black
Packard—dressed to kill.”
“Doing Mardi Gras—
Like a French Quarter old whore
Me his right-hand man.”
“It seems like only—
“Yesterday, me as Popeye’s
Handsome male chauffeur.”
“But look at me now—
Just look at me—a poor
Dead son of bitch.”
“Laying here in a
Barroom speak-easy coffin
With nothin’ to do.”
”A big fight breaks out—
Over by the crap table
A bad argument.”
“Get that goddamn corpse—
Outta here!!!” somebody shouts.
A drunken ruckus.”
“Suddenly outta—
The blue the bouncer shows up
Then there’s a scuffle.”
“Pandemonium—
Bursts of filthy language
mixed with the sad tunes.”
“Tearful old trumpet—
Blaring sad spirituals
Played by a black man.”
“Somebody hurls it—
A wreath from my coffin top
And then another.”
“Before long hell starts—
Dancers getting trampled bad
There on the dance floor.”
“The band stops playing—
It’s just awful what happens
To my nice sad wake.”
“Right in the middle—
“I Can’t Give You Anything
But Love Baby Girl.”
Band members standing—
On their chairs during the fight
No more music now.”
“They’re just holding—
Their instruments & themselves
Above the mad fray.”
”The big ole bouncer—
One of my best friends back then
Whirls around the most.”
“Unbelievable—
His celerity & skill
Troublemakers fly!”
“Smashing into my—
Coffin up against the wall
I could feel it teeter!”
“Right there on the edge—
Off the table I now slide
Down into the mob.
“Catch it!!!” the worried—
Proprietor shouts but it’s
Too late, down I go.”
“My coffin bounces—
Down the steps of the band stage
Spilling me nicely.”
“Smoothly, sedately—
My face there on the dance floor
Lookin’ up at them.”
“Play something!!!” he bawls—
The distraught proprietor
Waving his long paws.”
“Play something—quick!—
C’mon, play anything now!!!”
But the black band ran.”
”There I was down there—
With all the clomping, stomping,
Kicking, drunken feet!”
“All I could hear was—
Their footsteps trampling down there
With my cold dead heart.”
“The painted wax plug—
Embalmer’s wax embedded
In the bullet hole.”
“It popped right outta—
My forehead like a neat cork
Over the dance floor.”
“The hole kinda oozed—
Like fizzy champagne oozes
Outta a bottle.”
“The bullet hole that—
Popeye shot in my poor head
As I fucked Temple.”
“I was too good for—
My own good making Popeye
Green with jealousy.”
”I could hear the hearse—
And Packards & Cadillacs
Making their escape.”
“It was time to get—
The show on the road out to
The cemetery.”
“A nondescript line—
Sleek sedans with lowered shades,
Taxis & roadsters.”
“Joining us as we—
Make our way down thru Memphis
Out to the graveyard.”
“I’m ready now for—
A little peace and quiet
Gawd, I deserve it.”
“Miss Reba, Minnie—
Temple, Popeye, Miss Myrtle,
Miss Lorraine, Uncle Bud.”
“They’re sad to see me—
Done & over but I’m glad
To get rid them.”
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