saturday night taxi from the fancy hotel with the marble lobby
that oozes ice from its veins
to the club on the westside that stays open till 5
never say cab! so says my taxi driver friend
dirty yellow door opens
couple of friends playing tonight, one on piano
a Fats Waller aficionado
one on sax, maybe a young Gene Ammons type; smooth
upbeat stuff for the upbeat upscale crowd
dance floor if you’re one of those (I’m not)
hard bop, be bop, insane bop, bop till you drop
if you bring your cares, leave them at the door
no downers here tonight charlie just a positive vibe
congas thumping along brazilian style like
horns blasting dynamite caps going off
drums thumping like jackhammers jack
people wall to wall, hall to hall
standing room only seats available
a line eight or nine deep at the bar, sad!
dancers more like silver pinballs bumping and rebounding
lights flashing, bells ringing off but nobody seems to mind
4 am and the crowd starts thinning out but the band plays on
where should we go now?
it’s not late, it’s just midnight someplace
there’s another club open somewhere
