“The world found you out now”

It’s the sort of thing that people would either not believe, or squash with a so what.
But she hadn’t asked the question she never asked in a long time.
It was a warm spring night, outside. Stage lights on the plaza. A mere handful audience. Yet, he was having fun, according to the bass player, (who reiterated with, “he introduced the band, he doesn’t if he’s not” Then continued to describe the pain of his gall bladder attack, etc.) to her sister since she’s a nurse and people always talk to her.

During the break, it was dark inside. Like coming indoors out of the sun. She sat at a table with a blank napkin and stared at the back of his black suit and red silk shirt collar. He was alone at the bar. Go talk to him.

It drove her nuts how he, they, can say anything. Without words. How could I write like that? Stupid question. Beside a barrage of honest saying nothing, it was all she could come up with. She smiles, still, at the regret of not going up there and saying hi.

This morning, maybe twenty years later, she wakes to:
(Not clear on the meaning, but certain of everything else)

A friend came to me in a dream
Said the world found you out now
Junior came to me in a dream
Said the world found you out now
I’m gonna listen to what he said
And now it’s time I bow myself out

Still Life

Painted undercover
Or one more gin and
Tonic, phonics played
On a jukebox locked
Like leaning too long
As they’re watching
Twisted turns of the
Blue chalked sticking
Out like dogs frozen
At the table waiting
For a different song

I Can

I forget I’m anonymous
And can write the word
Love or f*ck if I wanted
To, publish with a pretty
Cover of trees, probably,
Drawn in broken crayon
Without perspective or
Mention who authored
But another because it
Isn’t feeling finished yet
Or simply since unseen
Beneath the pine below
Like hide and go carve
Fake initials who knows

A Waterfall From a Rock

After the strain, an aching says to wait
There’s a place just ahead to sit, rest,
It’s endless, no destination set in stone
Alone like streams crossed yesterday
Tight hairpins hint taken a little further
Over needles, sharps, splashes telling
Something starts, sensed to be higher
Like the strength to stretch and reach
Unknowingly where a butterfly comes
And ripples left, settled smooth from
Time, beneath skyless trees safely hid
Believed breathing green seasons lift
Clearly holding stronger blue behind
Till everything returns as suddenly as
Stopped, flows a waterfall from a rock

Tell Me More

Not just because the sound of your voice,
Drawn, like bright blue cursive swirls into,
Onto glass, magically, in a trance,
Above that, point on, floating over those
Higher and deep, keeps thinking in secrets
Inked, to push a sleeve and see an answer,
After the pencils down, found yet,
Never too late to start, turn a blank page to


Lights and laughter
Skim the brick
As a lone sax saturates
An air that is thick
With past to present
The old to new
Woefully blending
Red and blue

Scratched into a napkin on one of those white plastic tables. They were having fun, relaxing to an Alanis cover in an outdoor alcove of the club in old town Saint Louis. The conference went well. Yet, even after a few, the two continued flipchart, water picture discussion. “Special…ability, dis.” Interrupted by,
“What are two pretties like you doing without a drink?”
Kicking under the table, fingers flew in beautiful silent sign language:
“Of course they don’t know what we’re saying…donkeys grow on trees…”
“Oh, s o r r y”, loudly and animated as they slowly backed away, as if deaf is contagious.
Safe from earshot:
“Not even, where were we…was that appropriate? ”
“We’ll run it by confidential name, (used to be “consumer”), when we get back, she’ll get a laugh out of that.”

They were quiet over the bricks to meet the interstate and cross, somehow, now not as dexterous. Neither felt like the challenge or agency funded hotel rooms. One got lost in a book store and the one with the pen found the melancholy saxophone that had been talking softly in the distance all night.