|For Dean Martin|
left hand a glass of apple juice.
In his right hand he holds a cigarette.
And though it’s apple juice he looks so loose
You have to think that he has had a hit
Of booze before he went onto the stage
But not so much that he has lost command
Of his inflection, or his tonal range,
Or of the cigarette and glass in hand,
As he is singing songs, but not too loud,
Because there’s nothing that he needs to prove
To anyone, out to the nightclub crowd;
You can just see that he is in a groove
A man is in when he’s achieved a state
Where he is naturally inebriate.
If you have any comments on this poem, Paul Bussan would be pleased to hear from you.