THE ANGEL OF LEVON HELM:
Listening to Levon Helm to counter kick drum overkill
hammering across the fields at 7:00am. I doze for an hour
until happy adrenaline-hyped DJ’s come home laughing loud &
turn it up next door. Their girlfriends haunt the corridors,
shuttling sheepish between rooms, averting their eyes as I
head to breakfast. Into a vast & empty room, a sea of linen
& giant flowers. A banquet of untouched pick-ables beneath
a flatscreen tv. It pumps inane music videos into the morning,
jamming all my frequencies. My mate Malcolm walks in smiling,
makes the coffee machine hiss more beautiful than these rattling
poptones, but the waitresses are angels, they understand.
When I ask they smile & quietly turn off the music . Silence,
Hallelujah! Words form in my head & I remember who I am.
We laugh to the song of teaspoons dancing in cups.
There’ll be time enough for kickdrums.