Hearing Slapbak on a Sunday

…starring, stage left,
a bass — telling its stories
through a couple of fingers.
Someone laying pipe
for the flow to follow.
The same someone popping the welds on it
when the flow’s gotta get free.

When Shuggie Otis comes on
with an invite to Sparkle City,
that bass shakes me deep and simple:
a friendly hand opening a door,
shuffling me along to comfort,
giving a shout to someone unseen
to break out sweet tea and a good meal,
makes me agree that
"there is no offer
I would refuse…"

It’s not much —
it’s everything.

So give me
that rock steady bottom
any Sunday, because that’s church
softer than any pew,
keeping me warm on an ember
made of Bible pages.

This morning in particular,
it’s a big pillow
for a sad head
and the groove it cuts
holds me like a mother
I never had.