The Standoff (1989)

Taken from a photo in the paper:
a man in a doorway holds a gun
to his head with one hand, in the other a beer.
Two police face him from behind a shield.

I stand at the door, half-in, half-out,
the winter morning jagged and cold
like the snout of this .38 jammed in my ear.
This beerís cold too, each swig
falls slow and mean like Harlem sleet.
But my trigger fingerís colder. Frozen.

Funny, no matter which way you point
a gun, this street always stops to watch:
the two cops cowering behind their shield,
squad cars phalanxed on the sidewalk,
radios squawking, lights strobing bluered bluered,
sunglasses and shotguns glittering
like broken glass in the hard morning sun,
beyond them camera crews edging closer
with the crowd, jostling for a gape at splatter.
Only the paramedics seem bored,
smoking together by the ambulance.

The shield before me talks like a TV daddy,
trying to babble me down from here
with such shit about its not too late
and give yourself another chance. I mean really.
But that dull plate looks like my old man,
a shadow in steel that canít be shattered,
sending me off again with that cold winter stare.
Drunk father, dark father, take no prisoners, rage.

How long? An hour, two? It isn't up to me.
I just stand here like the piano man
at the Pussy Prowl on stage between the babes,
that old sorry ass blues mooning
from my fingers like a shot of bad whiskey.
Hold me up to the light and you see
the same malt nigger nothing.
You'd pull the trigger too.

It's too cold for the grace my momma
said would always come if we prayed.
This angel just wants my ass.
A wind off the lake sweeps in,
swirling up litter up in tight funnels,
and a truck backfires, startling the crowd:

Then suddenly itís happening,
everyone screaming Do It Fucker!
the cameras click and whirl like startled pigeons,
and the cops behind the shield cower holy Jesus,
and the winter sky barrels down on the city
like a molester on a shivering pale girl,
and blood erupts in the stone of my finger,
screaming nothingís getting in, man
I take no prisoners
I squeeze my eyes shut and
shut and shut
and shut
and