The Dark End of The Street
(for Alyce Guynn)
Your sister, Alyce, reminded me
what, in my grief, I had forgotten
and later on, I came to see
myself, in some film of you
New Jersey, a radio interview.
You were heading for Hoboken
chasing down Frank’s shadow.
It was shot a month before we met
The month you called ‘Magnetic May’
There you were, chattering away
in the studio, being the performer
talking of Nashville, Cowboy Jack Clement
“his battered boots were alligator.”
And there it was. There he was.
Bruised boy, flimsy as gauze
voice subdued, heart a lead weight.
What was it you used to say?
“I was singing on the sad side of the note.”
We were at the dark end of the street
for sure, right at the start
It didn’t take long for you to stand taller
Didn’t Alyce say “I found my jazz”?
The man in black, discovered colour
I did that. You did that too.
Look at what two fools can do
