FRIDAY DATE

near the cooler

   of the dive bar
 trying to make sense

 of a universe without
 slap happy endings

   wanting to be safe

frozen in a security suit
 given by the  recognized

bouncer
   with his whiskey core
 odor
   in exaction of my sax
      encased in riffs

with a force of musicians

one whose dad played
in the Cotton Club

demanding me to play
   sooth jazz

in a midnight  frieze