92   Henry's Baker (Chet)

           stay and we'll make     each day     a Valentine's Day

Touring through Holland     one more time     you fell
from a window     like an evening angel     emptied out
into the valley of the blues     (this well
of the horizon     filled with your     lost trumpet).

Your craggy face     was hollowed     long before
dragged from the harem     to the heroin
--quarters tossed     halfway to 88s--     the score
is nothing-not-nothing     (future-has-been).

My funny Valentine     her face has changed,
her hair     it's still the same     melodic thread
(your bread & wine)     & it is so arranged
we never leave--     the river     flows ahead

into heart's mournful gulf     &     stays, sustains
your     veiled demise     with victory     & peace.

Henry Gould | Island Road 93
Contents | Mudlark No. 6