What That Mouth Do?

Sitting at some dive bar
that's given me a warm beer
for the third time in a row.
Why I keep coming here?
I don't know.
Well actually I do.
There's only ever 5 people
in the place and
that appeals to me.
And normally this
no home nomad guy
doesn't have company
on his left or right
except for the angel and devil
that are the stereotype
but on this night,
she sits next to me.

But I'll get back to her
in a minute.

Before I could get a word in
edge wise amongst the silence,
up came this slick looking guy
with his hipster attire
decked out in skinny jeans,
a well groomed beard, a scarf,
and I'm sure an e cig
somewhere behind the scenes.
And to complete the look,
he had a Chinese character
on his wrist he thought said hope.

But nope, that shit read 'soup'.
The artist was being ironic,
cuz he knew he'd open that shit
and reveal the tomato hue
when he got a clue and
realized that he was a tool.
He's wasn't there quite yet
so he still constructed
the thought she and him
should be introduced.
Chivalry missing its cue,
He led off with
"Hey baby,
What that mouth do?"

Now you'd think this dude's
face would soon be met
with the splash of a drink
and a slap to the cheek
but she just calmly turned her head
took a deep breathe and said:

"This mouth
can do amazing things.
Things that would melt your mind
and never make you question
if a higher being was the one that
created and designed you.
Do things that your parents say
would surely blind you
but I got some blind truth
to confide in you since you asked what these two lips can flower
when my ideas take root and
true style blooms.

This mouth can smile.
Bring real wrinkles that
signify times that can't be
erased like chalk lines.
And more tellingly is the birth mark
that sits above my lip.
The same mark
that on my grandmother sits
and who's lyrical lisp left me hanging on every word of the colorful life
that she lived up until the point that
these memories slipped
into an abyss.
Unable to recite even the names
or her kids or the kids of those kids,
I just told her those stories back,
she always smiled and asked
who authored these tales and fables.
I'd say, "A strong woman, the strongest in fact."

This mouth can recite lines from
all walks of life like
Tennyson, T.S. Elliot,
Beavis and Butthead, Donald Glover, MCR, Morrisey,
The Abstract, Whitman,
Lennon and Lennon, Flaco Navaja,
Zac de la Rocha, and
selected soliloquies from the mind
of Kubrick, Tarantino and Kerouac.
In fact if you give me a sec
I could secure
a singular percentage
of the selections I have stashed
in perpetration to penetrate
the pretenses of my generation that have a voice but
never make a real show of it.
instead,
they just make a show
out of it.

This mouth said a prayer
to a being I didn't believe in.
bartering and bargaining, breaking down to begging for my farther to keep breathing and when he had his last gasp on his last evening, this mouth was by his side singing sweetly songs that held meaning like when I first felt his love way back when I was still teething.

This mouth has said
"I love you," to those that
beat the bottle then beat the person that they claim has
the essence of a model.
And this mouth has then taken them back only to be greeted
by another smack and a verbal
attack when the fifth hits empty
on his precious jack.
And this mouth has said
"I hate you," to those that
only wanted what's best for their daughter, niece, sister.
the same saving things I'll probably tell my daughter if she's like her mother when she's looking for her future children's father.
At least I pray Jesus keeps her from the beast when I kiss her
forehead and wish her luck
every autumn
on the same day that's both
her birthday and her 3rd first day
since first grade.

Yeah this mouth has made
a mistake or two,
but one thing this mouth won't do,
is keep this convo going
by continuing to talk to you."