Friday, April 16, 2010

Backyard on a Thursday Night

Raymond and Mark have taken the floor
And I'm ensconced in my corner
A glass of white to chase
A glass of red
A notebook,
a volume of Sexton
And the music pulses.

I'm alive!
and the world shines for me today,
I'm alive!
suddenly I am here today.
Seems like forever (and a day)
thought I could never (feel this way)
is this really me?

I look up, clap, sing along,
Go back to my book.
Errol asks me: why so alone?
The deejay wants to know:
How can you read in all this noise?
Jerry is curious:
What book are you reading
In all this commotion?

Eccentricity by any other word
is still strange.
He turns over the cover
and shakes his head
Kisses me, and moves off.

Suddenly came the dawn (from the night),
suddenly I was born (into light)
How can it be real?
I'm alive, I'm alive, I'm alive.

And I read some more Sexton.

And the drunk get drunker
Move together
Bodies offering warmth for a night
What's your name again?

And I read some more Sexton.

Avoid the eyes of those who are too dumb to know
that eccentrics are not to be engaged.

Down on the corner
Out in the street
Where the poor boys are jamming
Bring your nickel, tap your feet.

They finish their second set
My cue to leave.
And I do, I'm outta there.
At 39, you're allowed to be weird
No one turns a hair.

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