a singer of songs

They always come out of my head and

To a spot somewhere directly in front of my face

A few words at a time

Each word appearing

A second or so

Before I have to sing it

Providing me a chance to

Give them each their due

To put them in their proper position in the world or

 At least that’s how I hope it goes but

It doesn’t always

Not even if I manage to clear my head of

Everything else

Even fantasies of playing point guard for the Detroit Pistons

As I did tonight

Tonight I was channeling Leonard Cohen and Jeff Buckley

I was shooting for perfection

I wanted every word in the right place and

Every note as close to where it needed to be as I could place it and

After one do over

I was doing it

I flubbed a little when she tied him to a chair and

Then

As I got ready to say “I’ve been here before”

I couldn’t remember being there before

I stopped and there wasn’t a sound

Until she broke in with “baby I’ve been here” and

I was there again

They were all there again

In front of my face but

Then I couldn’t see the flag on the marble arch either

Not until she showed it to me and

Then it was there again and

So now so was she

With a voice of her own

Six years in the making

So far

A voice

Reminding me that

The songs in my head

Aren’t just in my head and

Aren’t the only ones

Being sung

One

word

at

a

time

Right

in

front

of

my

face