MARK ROTHKO
(1903-1970)

Yellow,
red,orange
dubbing
in a frenzied light
from Rothko
flashing to me
as a pattern
in a taxi
on my way to
play riffs and jam
on my soprano sax
to play jazz at midnight
in Manhattan
near the Schubert Alley
of the Broadway area
corridors
as we crash
yet no one is hurt
near my club
yet your performance art
shines in my memory
of a spiritual
divine credibility
from the Houston
Rothko chapel
as the snow drift rises
on our window
we invite
Sam the driver
to go out with us
and he discusses
from the car's silence
his own experience
with Jesus
as he is a survivor
of a ski accident
in Laconia, New Hampshire
as he sings to us
with his Basque guitar
by the river bed
from a Bach cantata
we were trying to relax
after his tenor solo
and the canned music
from the T.V's dubbed
laughter at the club
then we are fed
with a bird's bread
and drink a fine wine
as my poetry words
are read under the stars
until sunrise.