Fragment after a country show

a prose poem


He is playing a snare drum but every so often sings or plays a black guitar

The set, almost through and everyone on the stage looks like they are having a good time

Here, across the dance floor, I am watching him sweat under the stage lights. I’m falling in love

It may be the peach shirt he wears, or his straw hat, or his smile or his joy

It may be his balding pate - or maybe (and this seems to be the case) he looks like taking a van from the coast to the prarie over night is energizing

That rambling energy makes me hope I’ll be the boy he has in this port

His set closes and down and then just before the headliner, I corner him, see the dark hair, as slick and black as an otter covering his chest, smell his sweat- intimadated I ask him to sign the poster I nicked from outside. He's gracious and shocked, thanks me for my kindness and I feel the entire world like an earnest fan boy. He leans close to me, puts his hand on my shoulder said thank you, talked to me about Victoria as he scrawls his name near the name of the singer. Nothing is named after the drummer- always the singer- from Buddy Holly's crickets to Neil Young's Crazy horses. He didn't seem to mind being part of the band and with that grin as he signed - that genuine and shy concern that someone liked him I thought he was going to bundle me away to Calgary or Saskatoon or where ever he was going next. I trailed him to the merchandise table, backing a warm brick wall and at an inconspicous corner, I ignored him - talked to the first musican (Danielle Howle) who played about Joni Mitchell. He didn't talk, stood guard silent and weary- the energy seems to come from the stage, the rock and roll. The peach shirt and the straw hat matched his skin sallow from road food. Danielle gave me a sticker and told me "she knew who her friends were". I gave her a list of cheap Thai. The headliner (Kelly Hogan) is starting and I thank Danielle look over at the drummer, and almost miss Kelly's first song, settling into the same corner of the dance floor, ignoring Kelly's heart breaking hard drinking never fucked him up no matter how much it fucked up her voice with half an ear. I was still paying attention to the drummer, still at the merchandise table, All of a sudden he bolted up and a girl who barely reached his nipples came close to him. He settled into her, curling protectivly over her dimunitive form