Rudy's

spontaneous jazz
last night in
the company of
dim red bricks
the drummer
reminded me
of a former
roommate
and also
the person
I recently
got close
enough to
the rhythm
of to know
when the ground
was no longer
humming at
the vibration
or frequency
we had learned
to measure
without instrument
only gently in our
7/8 weekends
I sat far enough
away from the stage
to project any
reality familiar
enough to bring
a resolution
to life when
you ghosted
I had to listen
for a xylophone
in a field so
soft and alien
a distraction
for the missing
months maybe
your brown
hair the way
it was arranged
was another
time machine
the way song
grabs you by
the hand and
leads you into
a room you
do not want
to enter
and I do not
want to be
in any other
room but
Rudy's Jazz
Room quit
trying to
transport
me elsewhere
can’t you see
my need
for escape