My Buddy from Detroit Life by John Sinclair & His Motor City Blues Scholars

"my buddy"
for Henry normile

marcus belgrave
standing outside the church
in that tan trench coat,

snowflakes dropping softly
into the up-turned bell
of his golden horn,

sending up some beautiful music
into the celestial ears
of our beloved pal,

literally blasted away
just days ago
by shotgun shells

through the neck, but now
surely resting his weary ass
on a cloudly bed

full of gorgeous angels
busily ministering to his every need
according to his personal creed:

"cocaine,
pussy,
& lobster,
in that order"

o henry, you fucking
candy bar of a man,
you sweet motherfucker,

i can see the big grin
that lights up your angelic face,
digging the lovely sounds of marcus

now as always,
in heaven as it was on earth,
forever & ever,
amen—my man, a-
fucking men

—snug harbor frenchmen street, new orleans september 15, 1993/
french quarter new orleans september 15, 1995
after dr. john, "my buddy"

• Jazz
• Poetry
• Rock
• Spoken Word
• Detroit