“Thoughts from the Back Room”

He struck a match and that fire burned bright

The mighty stink of sulfur went deep in the next inhale

Ya ever smelled sulfur before, I wonder

It hits you real hard like month-old rotten eggs

Or like Manny on the real hard days:

Straight metal pole from nostril to brain

It’s conjured now by the slick flick

Of a seasoned wrist

Its visual incarnation a blazing phoenix

Quietly hissin’ into life

I could only tell ya what I smell and hear, kid

And the light is only my imagination

Because I’ve got a goddamn sack on my head