In
Red's Juke Joint in Clarksdale
by
Norbert Krapf
In
Red's juke joint they play the blues
after
the sun don't shine. The notes
they
play are blue but the ones plugged in
on
the wall glow red and the beer bottles
Red
sells from behind the bar are cold and brown.
A
small river flows behind the old building
and
in front stands a cut barrel in which meat smokes.
Between
the river and the smoke the blues cook
all
night long and the beer flows as slow and long
as
the river don't stop. People come to sit
on
bar stools and chairs and listen to the blues
nights
the way they come to sit in pews in church
Sunday
mornings and in Red's and in the church
the
music is about the same though some people
say
the music in the juke joint comes from the Devil
and
in church it comes from God. My ears tell me
the
music in Red's is the call and response of the Devil
and
God talkin' together and the people listen
the
same whether the smoke comes from a candle
or
meat and all the singing sounds sacred.
About
the poet: Former Indiana Poet
Laureate Norbert Krapf's most recent poetry collection is Catholic
Boy Blues, which was followed
by the related prose memoir Shrinking
the Monster, winner of an
Illumination Book Award and finalist for an INDIES Award. Forthcoming
is a collection of poems about his grandson (almost three), Cheerios
in Tuscany. Norbert
co-facilitates a workshop with Liza Hyatt, Bless This Mess: Writing
About Difficult Relationships. For more, see www.krapfpoetry.co