The pianist’s crisp white clean shirt is dyed blue from the moonlight
The back of his ears glisten so slightly of sweat
Because this song reminds him of his childhood
He was 15 in Cuba, with the water out in front of him
His toe cut open from a rock on the pavement
He sung a tune he learned from his mother to pass the pain
It grew into a scab in seconds, he noticed
The song works
The bassist wears glasses too large to overcompensate for the fact that he looks like both a fox and a mouse
Though he is a passionate lover
You can tell because he smiles at the band at taps his toes.
Everyone applauds
The drummer is sitting on time
smiling at the wind blowing from the other side of the stage
his brother is in the crowd, sitting next to me
he whispers into my ear
“My brother played like that even when he was 13. He’d play before dinner and after dinner we’d throw a baseball.”
I wonder what they’ll do after the show.
We ordered dessert at the club even though I have another in my purse and one more down your throat
The couple in front of us is holding hands under the table
He is tapping the rhythm into her palms
and thinking sweet words about his eternal lover
The couple over there is on a first date, acting formally, wrapped in white
They’re wasian
But the couple behind us is from Japan
Everyone is laughing, playing along, pretending it’s one big joke
Ha ha ha
It’s the music of our generation