Forsaken Elegies

i. brother

Your gift was you could name any random
recording (and its personnel) on any random radio station
or record player.

You and I taxied downtown. Awkward silences
born of different fathers that rainy May evening: to celebrate
a your twenty-sixth birthday and my fifteenth at the Howard Theatre.

Cannonball Adderley! Oscar Brown  Jr.!
Best of all, sweet Nancy Wilson!

After the show you drag me backstage to seek her autograph.
As sweet Nancy smiles and inscribes my crumpled napkin,
she boldly checks you out standing next to me,
fondling the neck of your umbrella.

ii. longing

Twenty or so years later on Cape Cod
I again spot Tisha dancing her feet off
still pretty as in high school modishly on-the-butch-side
making magical turns with a shorter muscular black
woman equally modish on-the-butch-side.
As a seventies anthem trails off  I watch them walk out onto
the shabby pier and the rest of the night through
surveil Tisha dancing and smiling into the eyes of and
tonguing her friend

                              so very deeply.

iii. out that door

away from me
on down that street
                switching
to some other doo-wop
in your arms
of imagi-
                nation
and you blow-
                ing some old
song: yeah yeah
                yeah-eh-eh-eh
oh, the surprise
and the same old
same ole
how can
                this be
                you’d ev-
                er leave
                me in
                some “old
                              leafy glade”
                to the intrusion of violins

and my old breaking heart
                needs to belong

at last
(oh i just want to die)
More Poems by Cheryl Clarke