Land of Nod in the Washington Tavern
Having him around,
while otherwise alone
in the bar, three hours
past midnight, was like
living my own Zendeath
poem. Any minute I
expected him to punch in
his favorite Golden Oldies
on the retro juke for mood
music: “All Those People
Who Died” by Jim Carroll,
Talking Heads, “Burning Down
the House,” “This Wheel’s On
Fire” by Dylan and The Band…
I thought about asking him
About his Koresh Chorus:
All those songs with Fire in
the title, played once a year
on the anniversary of Waco,
but decided he wouldn’t get
it, that he was more interested
in hitting the head to use his
gear before a fatal crash.
I could see he was cruising
for the Land of Nod, his wasted,
emaciated frame, way too
old for how many years he’d
spent in decaying orbits around
earth, a hot-wired Jim Carroll
Creature on the last laps
of a mechanical dream, his black
tickets punched, as he reached
for a stage microphone that would
never be there to sing along
with “The Catholic Boy,”
“It’s too late, to fall in love
with Sharon Tate…”
Alan Catlin worked for the better part of 34 years in his unchosen profession as a barman in and around the greater Albany, NY area. He has published dozens of chapbooks and full-length books focusing on his work and the people he met while laboring in the trenches of bar warfare.
