Big Joe Turner

Originally posted 6/13/2012.

Big Joe Turner could palm a jump blues
like an egg, could handle it rough
and never break it even as he smote the air
with the soft club of his voice
floating over and through.

I try it myself. I think I sound
good, as good as that.
The shell fragments on my hands
and the sticky yolk say no.
The heart of me says no too.

Big Joe Turner,
they are forgetting you
and your kiss curled imitators.
Big Joe Turner,
I’ll owe you forever 

for the mess on my hands
and the mark on my bones.
They won’t dry or heal,
no matter what others
do or do not do.