Member Poem

From a photograph by Ted Grudowsky
 
He sat at the piano, fingers
touching black and white
keys, matching his tuxedo
colored suit, dark tie and   
an alabaster shirt stained
with sprinkling sweat.
The singer put an Australian
Dunhill cigarette, letting it
dangle in his mouth. After
playing a few notes,
he stopped, looking for
a match under the spotlight,
but there was nothing but
baggage claims, loose leaf
lyrics he scribbled in limo
on the way to the show.
As the singer fumbled,
in the front row, my balding
friend got up and hurried to the
side of the stage. Taking out his
antique silver lighter from his
torn blue jean pocket, Martyn
in his faded blue Leonard Cohen
t-shirt, reached up from
seats and magically lit King
Ink’s ciggy—Cave winked
and mumbled Thanks mate!
Looking back down, towards
the keys, the singer grinned
eyes closed, beginning
the notes to “And No More
Shall We Part” he exhaled
smoke— savoring the nicotine
on his lips, the music echoed
reigniting the quiet the halls
as the singer played, we all sat
mesmerized, watching Nick Cave’s
fingers becoming entranced again.