92 Henry's Baker (Chet)
stay and we'll make each day a Valentine's Day
Touring through Holland one more time you fell
from a window like an evening angel emptied out
into the valley of the blues (this well
of the horizon filled with your lost trumpet).
Your craggy face was hollowed long before
dragged from the harem to the heroin
--quarters tossed halfway to 88s-- the score
is nothing-not-nothing (future-has-been).
My funny Valentine her face has changed,
her hair it's still the same melodic thread
(your bread & wine) & it is so arranged
we never leave-- the river flows ahead
into heart's mournful gulf & stays, sustains
your veiled demise with victory & peace.
Henry Gould | Island Road 93
Contents | Mudlark No. 6