Image by Jody Kennedy

http://www.ekphrastic.net

Agnes Was Here

I saw Jay last week.
It was late
and the streets surrounding
the intersection of the BMT
with the Church Avenue bus
were deserted.
He stood humpbacked,
sheltering from the snow
under the overhang
of the candy store that graced the corner.
The distance between us
had grown to a dozen years
and I thought to walk away,
but he stood blue
and shivering–fumbling
with a cigarette butt
he could no longer light.
We huddled over the subway vent
until the worst of the shakes passed.

He was years ahead
of his time,
in his artfully torn jeans
and army surplus jacket.
Who could have predicted
a generation would mimic his look,
if not his misery?

But he stole every show–
strutting the stage with his vintage Sunburst–
back when we were the next big thing,
before the booze
the smack
the nightly fights.
Back when we were family.
Before Agnes left him for the drummer—
the one we all called Einstein.

That graceless night,
I offered to find him shelter—
though he knew
I hoped he’d say no,
then slipped a few dollars
in his friendless hand
and boarded the empty bus home.