round the room rickety tables full of pungent drinks
people to drunk to move slouched down over chairs
slow sultry low down dirty juke joint dancing music plays
smoke fills the air and moves to ceiling fans oscillation currents
couples fill the dance floor, arms wrapping each other grinding tight
you can hear the movement of feet  slow dragging in the saw dust
the whine of the guitar on stage vibrates in their inner souls
no whites of eyes shine in the dark, for all eyes are the are closed
the whole room shifts as the horn player takes it's raunchy solo
heads lift from shoulders up right, as if awaking from a trance
fingers lock tighter, they all start to rock slow and easy in time
you see women lift to their toes as the notes climb high
men seem to be holding them down if only by shear will to the room
then they start to fly too, as the women pull them in the bluesy air
feet lift in time to the beat, and the juke joint pulsates heat
one would think this OLE joint's walls would cave in
from the sonic sounds of stage and pounding on dance floor
but stand it does, as it always has to this rheumatic down home flow