Monday, May 7, 2012


You know what happens next already.
Or do you?
Are there expectations so great
you believe what seems inevitable?
Why would you?
If Rebecca’s dead, why is Bobby alive?
Or is he?
Who’s that slouching by as DG speaks
with his alto . . .
that grim-faced guy looks more like a kid
than anyone else
on the bandstand, is that what you call it
still with only five?
DG on alto, Tony on the keys,
Sanchez drums, Clark back on bass,
Bobby at the mike more happily now
he can reach
deeper and higher than before, but with
the blues
he knows and prefers to sit out the jams
remembering Rebecca never heard song
from him.
That was marriage. He invented the cliche,
driving across the Golden Gate at sunset
nothing, knowing it was all a mistake
but keeping quiet,
Don’t let her know you know it’s going
That was after the first trip to Mexico,
between vows
and screams and silence as aftermath.
On the verge
of divorce, this. He reached further down
on All of Me
and damned if it didn’t take all of him,
then Nature Boy
took the rest.

(29 April, 8 May 2012)

copyright 2012 by Floyce Alexander

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