The Intellectual Rummy
by Chris Clark

My psychologist is on the train to Chicago.
I ask him: "Can I go? We can drink cognac
Together and smoke pot in the dining car."
He says to me: "You need friends."
"O.K." I say. "I need friends."

John the Baptist was a great tenor, I have been told.
He and John and Paul and Luke, the great Gospel quartet.
Where the hell was Ringo throughout all this mess?
I have not prayed in seven months. I have 9 lives.
Se la vie! Come to New Orleans. A short fat Frenchman says.
We can go there together, you and I.

You are a torrent blonde with your hair upswept,
Pulled back tight over a long forehead, a portrait
Like Anne Boleyn, fair white skin, rose lips.
The moonlight in your eyes becomes blue water.
I drink you into my soul.
We can take a carriage ride through the French Market Square.
Remember, I was Catholic once?
The statue of General Jackson is pretty in the moonlight.
A shadow. A tall shadow of the General
Bleeding from a wound over Jackson Square,
A wound he received from the battle of New Orleans.
1814. All those Frenchmen with their muskets and Crepe Soufflés.
His shadow becomes concrete moonlight mixed with Banana nut
Rum ice cream.   A pantomime stands silent.   Hush.
The children are sleeping on the streets.
I wonder if Luke was an alcoholic.

My psychologist says I drink too much.
There is a revolving bar at the Hotel Monteleone.
You and I can drink Hurricanes and talk
About poetry and plays. Tennessee Williams was a homosexual.
Ernest Hemingway lived in Spain and ran with the bulls
In San Fermin. That country is beautiful in July.
You are pretty with your hair upswept. A gold pin in blonde hair.
Your sister tried to fix you up with a man from Spain.
Or had he just visited? I don't remember.
I would like to run with the bulls just once.
The white shirt, the red bandana, a leather wine bottle,
It all sounds romantic. I'd like to walk across from the hotel
To that menagerie shop and buy you a small ceramic violin.
I'd like to do so many things.

Henry VI was a madman without a kingdom.
Especially after Prince Edward died.
Tewksbury Field.   May 4, 1471.   A Lancaster heir lost.
Did I mention that King Lear was Bi-Polar?
Richard III was not a hunchback, a black-cloaked demon
With a cane as Shakespeare said!
I don't care how many greasy back-alley hamburger chefs say so.
So there, I'm an intellectual. I can talk to you
About fibermatosis, about how many milligrams of Valium
This patient needs. She says 65. Should I?
A dead horse in a green pasture is a lovely sight.

Back to New Orleans and this revolving bar
On Tewksbury Field at the Monteleone. No.
Bienville Street. You know what I mean.
Have you ever had a Blue Lagoon Martini
With a red and yellow umbrella stuck in the middle?
The bartender told me Frank Sinatra came here once
On a blind date. I type on my keyboard the way
I would play a piano. Crescendo on P. & ˜
Chopin had no children. Such a waste.
Have you ever listened to Saint-Saen's Carnival of Animals
While driving out to Roosevelt Lake on a twisted road?
A green Pine leaf forest. I should think I would see
The cowardly lion jumping from a meadow to eat me
Any minute. Me and my car radio and Saint-Saen.
Or was it Chopin? I can't remember.
Great men have great children.
Such a waste.
Did I tell you my father was a doctor?
What am I doing here?

My mind is a swirling blue smoke ring.
The train ride was lovely. I am lonely.
I think I will read Shakespeare on Monday,
See my psychologist on Friday, board a train that evening.
If you go, we can walk together down Bourbon Street, you and I.
Hello? Are you there? Hello?
The receiver is dead.

I soft shoe into the Mule Shoe Salient[1]
I soft shoe into the Mule Shoe Salient
At night when I dream.
One dozen life savers and gum
My teeth will rot from my disorder.
I will dance, dream, and scheme
Of things that should have and would have been.

Dying in the middle of a dream
As you catch your breath somewhere
In the Salient. To lead would be valiant.
I awake in an alcoholic sweat.
Drink heavily. Wait to be blown to bits
By a Yankee soldier.

A Trench coat of worry and rain, I wear.
Trudge through mud and sleet.
Twenty hours of furious combat
I will tear off my skin tomorrow.
Start a new day bright and early.
Fresh. New. Born again.


[1] The Mule Shoe Salient as part of the Battle of Spotsylvania Court House was fought during the Civil War on May 12, 1864.