8. raw walrus
I look at nothing when I feel the Buddha
I’ve stoned the apostles of peace
It’s an old way of knowing, mhm
If you’ve got licorice or grease
Someone standing
In the frame of the door
Girl’s been waiting
But she can wait a little more
Lady I don’t even work here
This happens to me every time I come
Today in sweatpants and flip flops, mhm
Looking like a platypus nonplussed
Someone looking
After me when it’s bad
Losing touch
And lie about the time we had
I guess that you’re the wrong waitress
And this isn’t my coke
But the sign said OPEN
I was hoping I could sit here and smoke
Where do you think I’ve been
For the last two hours?
Oh lord
I liked it better when the paint was peeling
The coffee bitter, stronger, burned then, too
It’s a trip down a memory now, mhm
Just a silhouette of lonesome nights before I met you
Someone asking
Me to sign the dotted line
Thumbprint inkstain
Throwing hands and rolling eyes
I take the stages Davis blew
The ghosts of hard bop fill this Greenwich greenroom
I feel them pulsing, whispering, valving spit
And I lose myself in the moment
House lights up and I’m half-lit
Cash in hand, hand over rent
Baby I don’t even know you
But I want to be the apron on your hips
So let me take down your order girl, mhm
And by sunrise, it’s me and you and orange juice and grits
Someone cooking
In a loose Navajo
Wake up smiling
Make me feel I found a home
I guess that I’m the raw walrus
And this isn’t my dream
But the door was open
I was hoping I could sit here and scream
I don’t know where I’ve been
For the last two hours
Somebody sitting up with the lights on
Worried
For me
For me
Why me?
COMMENTS: the midnight cabbies sip coffee and chuckle as A Big Deal makes a move on the server