I’ve just learned the shuffle beat from ‘Rosanna’ and am not taking your calls. Never lend someone anything you hope to see again, is what I always say. How could you know I’d get a gig in a cover band playing Saturday nights at the little bar near where your girlfriend lives. My ex-wife. I close my eyes and let my sticks do my feeling, love songs and blues, and every now and again I open them, hoping to see her at a table in the front, drinking a beer, ready to make a deal.
This first appeared in a journal called Prose Poetry, which has gone the way of many online literary journals.