DRUMMER & THE JAZZ CLUB 

I always wondered
does his arms get tired
after the night of playing
at the small jazz club? 

He - upon the stage- stares at me- I think? 
Ooh playing- tikadatik takadatak 
symbols and snare- Crash! Crash! Crash!
double time! double time!
ditty boy closes his eyes with passion
I can see it
but I can only sit in awe 
silent hand upon my heart and smile whoosh and I am blown away 
ooh anticipation
this Thursday took forever to come and now.... 
it is just me,  writing by this candle light
him upon stage with the silver drum set?

perhaps tonight....
I will touch the curl upon his forehead
look into the eyes
find the words for this soul that never fails to blow my mind 
even if it was not his intention. 
in the moment I am
too busy documenting 
the present
FOOL
for not aiding the night
to bring it along with a stare or glance, a smile 
my heart! tickadatik takadatak
double time! double time!
Crash! Crash! Crash!
I stare- he smiles 
the candle burns my hand

And so this. Inspiration! 
Is it you? Is it me?
that inspires me so?
No. It's the energy between us.
It is us separate and yet one. 
Let us lower our eyes gently
to the soft sizzle of it all
after the club I can press my lips against your forehead 
as you tell me the pipe dreams and passions and that keep you alive 
I swear I do not wish to hide behind this poetry 
but it seems lost memory of speech?
how do you say? Kicking
myself for this silence?
there are no words spoken tonight
and I ... I am too shy
but do you see my eyes, speaking
Or can you hear my pen, writing fiercely
with your... intuition ... know 
I am writing about you.