Tonight / leaving the Duck & Dog
by Nigel Roberts
In the six
to seven months
since we
broke up
I have barely
given you a thought
but tonight
leaving the Duck & Dog
for some reason
I did
So
it goes
whatever—
louche & loaded
I put the recollect
of you, on hold
& made it
to Lyn’s
where
in a post pizza fog of drinks
joints, men’s business
& the fugue-like
reveries
of Keith Jarret
you surfaced again
saying Wow
Jarret has
great chops
& great ideas
man
as you did
in those wow & contiguous
times
whose batteries we ran
down, until these
stopped
with you
gone, to Gowings
me: to the Duck & Dog
or Lyn’s
where
I am now
listening in a half arsed
fashion to Jarret
& to
a late night impulse
to call you friend
to friend
out of the blu
on some
off-the-wall
& droll pretext
like;
Lyn says, “Hi”
which
is to the point
since we
are out of it—
but, we want
a third opinion
yours
on the superfluities
& overt
romanticism
of Jarret’s
approach
to
Smoke gets in your eyes
I made the call;
but, my pretext
& your opinion
did not
get to play—
as you did not
pickup
you did not say, who
it’s late / fuck off
goodnight, or
c’mon over & we’ll talk
about Bill Evan’s
evanescence
& Oscar’s
celerity, if you wish.
Nothing!
though before
my call rang out
I thought
I heard your cat, Mao
the dust
on nick-nacks
&, the Afro-American poets
on your shelves
stir awhile
these did not suggest
I call back
or leave
a message
Then
Ms Smoke
gets-in-your-eyes
I saluted you
and said to Lyn
that I was moving
on
to—get this—
navigate
the shallow waters
of myself.
Why
asked Lyn
when you can
do that here —
as he took
my glass & poured
the Chivas Regal.
