1234 agin
tho with long-dead Eric
Dolphy playing in his head Live: At the
Five Spot New
York July 16, 1961
he was at home with any cat who wrote
cryptically “Split clock birds drink wood’s angel through longhouse” penciled
in the margin on one version of his score for F.T.R.H.
it also
unknown
1234 wasnt a bad time to try and ignore
the cold seeping in through the walls due to oil bills he couldnt afford to
pay he left water dribbling from the tap
so the lines wouldnt freeze wrapped hisself
up a bit tighter in a scratchy wool blanket he got cheap at Goodwill blew on his hands to warm them so he could
keep writing under candlelight yah he couldnt
afford to pay the electric bills either his
brownstone attic apartment would have made an ideal morgue if it werent for all
the stairs between it and the street or a root cellar if it wasnt an attic
but thats awright
flip it look at it askew it was like saving money
come morning when the sun
returned the walls and roof would warm again and he could wonder outloud about
split clock birds drink woods angel through longhouse without his teeth
chattering
the girl downstairs took pity on
him he took her up on her offer of hot sweet
black coffee lapped to the lip of his lacquered ironstone mug and sometimes shed splash a little something
extra in it make it more
stimulating aromatic
she was a sweet thing
why she took the shit she did
from her boyfriend was beyond him
he must have something on her
or she was influenced by her
visits to her mother and her mothers wicked perception that a woman was no
woman unless she had a man in her life no matter whether or not he was a good
man and that he in her life was what made her a woman
no man ever made a woman
Yer old ladys full of shit he
told her the one time she confided in him
she hadnt since
Then you shouldnt have asked
me what I thought
I wouldnt lie to you
afterwards it made him think hed
get along a little better with people if hed keep his two cents to hisself when
he was asked he should lie to them pat their heads tell them Dont worry Itll be
awright This too shall pass
This too shall pass
a crock of shit
people going from lie to lie and
wondering when things were going to get better
they just hoped things would get
better
hope
just another drug
he wasnt buying
he was no junkie
he made his hope
he wrote under the borrowed light
of church votives
Let there be light
wasnt that their bit
it was he exercised it
their hope wouldnt kill em fast
no accidentally taking too much
overdosing
they go to bed with it at night
and wake up with it in the morning
Huh What gets me through the
night
Ya knows Yer coffee sweet little girl Yer coffee
1234 or 0034, Friday,
8 1. 16
