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


For me

For me

Why me?

COMMENTS: the midnight cabbies sip coffee and chuckle as A Big Deal makes a move on the server