Maiden Voyage

The musical inspiration can be played from this playlist on Spotify, or here on YouTube.

How can I go back?
To somewhere I’ve never been
Night in some city
A metropolis of fiction;
A somewhere that place
And time elide.
Future and present, past and now
The facades change, themes remain.
Baldwin’s here his heart aflame
Listening, loving, struggling
As Bill unlocks his soul
Key by key at the Village Vanguard,
Or La Faro flares -
A brilliant vibration
A brief spark flying to forever.

Safe in the glowing dark
Happily homesick
In a nocturnal nostalgia
The phosphorescent canyons
Lit by scatters of rubies and diamonds
Neon and brake lights caught in the rain
Modal heart sliding —
Not falling or climbing
— But nonetheless moving
The soul in transit
To some other place.

Trying like Rawlins or Marlowe
To answer the insistent So What?
Vamping for all I’m worth
To catch a hold of the plot of this life
While the carefree soloists improvise.

I’m reminded I need to find Neff
By the heartbreak of Blue in Green,
See if I can’t persuade him
To leave be, beautiful,
Scheming Mrs Dietrichson,
Come on an adventure instead
With me.

An encounter with Jacoby In Serendipity —
A Fog City bar —
While Desmond or Getz mirror slick streets
Play in their coolness, out of their time
Disguise our soft voices
As the captain unburdens himself
Of the weight of his secrets
The low lights scatter amber
From thick Bourbon glasses
As we talk of the sea,
And I persuade him, leaving,
Looking over his shoulder,
To turn down to the harbour
Take La Paloma back to the ocean;
Sam’s heart spared that terrible arrow.
The Fat Man can wait
For the bird in his hand.

I step into wet air, go looking for Walter;
I know the diner where he eats a Reuben
And drinks black coffee late at night.
While Herbie fills the spaces
In the nighthawks’ small hours’ rattle
Of plates and lost lives.
I’ll suggest the Mojave — a maiden voyage;
Just me and G (brother in crime)
With Neff and Heist (for back seat advice)
Eulipions, fine fellows, travelers together,
Taking a break from the lonely fight
Above the glow of the city at night —
Even though it will call us back later
Charon will empty our mouths
Of the obols in payment
For whatever’s left
After Rahsaan has played a last serenade
For our crossing.

But for now we will drive and talk our trash
Lay our hot backs on the hot, scented sand
Laugh at the fates and howl at stars.
This is how beautiful friendships start:
Fiction re-written from the inside out.