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106 • ESSEx HOuSE HOTEL (ALTErNATE TAKE) There is no note—that is work & I am weary. Splitting glass without interruption, stacking the pieces on my bed, that is more work than any man should bear. Had a hard time trying to break that pain without someone running to my door, questioning the commotion. There is nothing now, this empty room, pages meant for notes I can’t record. no one to play these blues for. When I land, oh, the sound: like wielding John Henry’s hammer as hands, fists that squeeze black red, pound keys silent. 107 • This page intentionally left blank. ...

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