And Then Some

I’m fourteen when Einstein is

in Princeton

he’s heading out of breath
as I am fresh and breathing in

but the landscapes of the space
between our ears


Al’s levers of mind worked
with mass in time while mine
to the bass of R & B
which thumped in hearts
and loins in i

Einstein’s gone,
but his poster’s on our wall
—if you were stepping down our stairs you’d glimpse him
in overcoat and hat strolling through our stairwell
wry smile, moustache, life-sized, black and white,
(having shed light on light,
you couldn’t miss him)

same moment: mid-fifties bluesy Etta James, was
anything but winsome —she came on
strong and sexy
beautiful and sure

so I weighed the heft of
his and hers and took them both
to heart and mind and lately find,
in terms of back and forths
between the two, there
certainly has been some

I admired them both and
then some

by Jim and…