After a Curious Detour Neither a Tragic nor Comic Performance
After the concert, it’s easy to let the music play on
without you. Easy for the bass and treble to tangle.
But the demanding rhythm rehearses itself,
steel wheels against steel tracks, the clickity-clack
at every joint of rail, profound as any industrial lullaby,
maybe more. Out the window, the night sky
impenetrable as any subway tunnel.
The graffiti of galaxies congeal behind closed eyes.
Your head nods back, not quick enough to awaken
to the theft. The rattle and roll descent, the swish
and sigh of automatic doors, the late-night hush
of fewer and fewer passengers, maybe not all
that you ever asked for but enough until you wake
two stations beyond your destination to find
the case gone. Sleep deceived you, leaving a fall guy, a mark.
The violin rare, a Stefano Scarampella, 1913, described
as “especially sonorous,” switched trains without you,
gone six days before its found, laptop
and backpack still missing. Questions remain:
will the music be there, would you be there
without the music, no matter the six figure ransom
that won’t be publicly disclosed. At Coney Island Station,
10 pm, you play in celebration, Vivaldi and the theme
from The Godfather, as the audience leaves on the next train.
• • •
Walter Bargen has published 25 books of poetry. Recent books include: My Other Mother’s Red Mercedes (Lamar University Press, 2018), Until Next Time (Singing Bone Press, 2019), Pole Dancing in the Night Club of God (Red Mountain Press, 2020), and You Wounded Miracle, (Liliom, 2021). He was appointed the first poet laureate of Missouri (2008-2009).