Blinded by Sunrise

For Everette Maddox

So listen,
it’s not like we ever met
or anything, but
I think we’ve both been
blinded by sunrise
refracted in a bar glass.

It’s like this:
I’ve had just enough of a taste
of your words that I’m haunted
like a man in love
who’s suddenly not sure where
his next drink’s coming from, except--
it’s not from her.
She’s up and left.

The books stores are dry
as Texas on a Sunday
and I can’t even get lucky
with a librarian
dropping your name.

It’s as if every last
book of yours
was drowned in
a Mississippi of bar scotch
and lost.

You being dead and all
I’m sorry
to bother but
if you scare up a copy
of the Songbook
in some street sale box
I might happen to pass by,
I promise I’ll have them
bury me with a bottle
so I can repay the favor.

Revised again 6-29-08 prior to a submission (wish me luck). And revised again 1-3-09, completely breaking the old fixed stress count lines that were getting me nothing, and freeing myself up to change a few things here and there.

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