piano-man


left hand rolls
rockin' boogie bass
right hand frolics
with a melody
feet tapping
like st. vitus on fire — 
song's end
both hands glide
down the entire tusk
and without pause
pick up a slow
through your heart
and out your mind
blues — 
i see him
smile at the sax
who slips in mellow
full of pain — 
goosebumps
i get goosebumps
for these blues
my fingers drumming softly
the table where
your hand rested
yesterday
 



 
six-eight time


slow and bluesy
i listen to the piano
lay the foundation
for the hungry voice
that whispers and wails
how she feels like a natural woman
and somehow it's my fault
 
i ignore her boastful lament
concentrate on the chords
tonic
dominant seventh
walk the bass down
modulate
i think i have it
and the keys under my fingers
reluctantly agree
 
singers are never in short supply
and one who has loitered
outside the door of my practice room
is happy to provide the voice
in fact already knows the words
the emphasis and pauses
that make this piece thrill me
i shiver as she ends soft and low
 
the conversation after
leads somehow to dance
she claims the meter of a song
can just pick you up
and slam-dunk drop you in love
with whomever you're with at the time
wants to demonstrate
so the needle meets the vinyl
sets the bluesy piano off again
she slips her arms around me
begins to move in six-eight time
and there i am in love
forever
or at least
until the song ends
and i don't even know her name
 


 
turn down the fires of hell #1


hush. listen to the melody
the undulating voice of pain
too wide for hands to hold
too deep for hell's own shadows
to mute, to resist
 
hush. feel the empty agony
of unexpected loneliness
the heart-torn tone of tears
that only a musician could cry
and only a woman bear, unmoved
 
hush. sense the final, lowest note
descending beneath the human ear
to resonate eerily through the floor
of this darkened convocation
this blues bar with an orphean saxophone