Blinded by Sunrise June 23, 2007Posted by The Typist in cryptic envelopment, Dancing Bear, Everette Maddox, Mid-City, New Orleans, NOLA, poem, Poetry, Toulouse Street.
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 Sunday
And I can’t even get lucky with a librarian
Dropping your name. It’s as if
Every trace of you was washed away
In a flood of bar scotch. I’ve started
Chalking Xs on the shelves I’ve searched.
You being dead and all I’m sorry
To bother but if you scare up a copy
Of any book of yours in some sidewalk box
I might happen to pass by,
I promise I’ll have them bury me
With a bottle so I can repay the favor.