Abstract

Nightingale Floor, and: Refrain, and: Blue Man Song David Barber (bio) NIGHTINGALE FLOOR In the innermost roomWithin the inner sanctum Ofnesting planes and turns,An ingenious meansOf making enemies known: In each hewn inch, in betweenEach unseen seam in the grainWhere nails were driven home,A nightingale singing inPiercing strains, slipping in And out of tune each timeA step is taken that canBe mistaken for meaning harm,And then a thousand and oneOf its kind joining in . . . Or instead you can beginTo turn your own thin skinInside out until you're the oneOn the outside looking inAs you sound the alarm— No asylum but the one knownTo a lone sparrow blown in thenOut of a banquet hall from gloomTo gloom in a vision, that oneBright instant in between. [End Page 161] REFRAIN Big house little house back house barnA farmhouse a homestead a little song Form and function one and the sameOne roofline one compound home sweet dung Downhome vernacular rambling onGoing in one ear and out the other end Sing it from the rooftops style is the manBig house little house back house barn A room is a frame is a scheme is a charmBless the hardscrabble we hunker down on Round and around crack of noon stroke of dawnAn old children's playtune a homespun sound One by one going going going goneBig house little house back house barn [End Page 162] BLUE MAN SONG Diagnosis: Argyria Cause of death: Pneumonia Bellevue Hospital 1923 All I can tell you is what I told you before.It's getting to where I can barely get air.My heart keeps pounding like I'm a locked door.I don't know how much more I can bear.But whatever I've got, it's got nothing to doWith the shade of my hide. I was born this blue. Call me a freak, but I know what I know.It must be something else that's laid me low.I've always been tall, I've always been thin,I've always been the bluest of men.Blue tongue, blue lips, toes and fingers all blue,And the whites of my eyes—see, they're blue too. Didn't you know the circus was in town?Haven't you heard about Barnum's Blue Man?Now that you've got me stretched out and stripped down,Can't you see that I'm blue to the bone?You must not know who you're talking toIf you're saying I'm dying to be blue. All my pals told me, up there in BellevueThey'll know what to do, or nobody will.But I'm starting to think you don't have a clueHow to heal a fellow who feels like hell.Whatever I've caught, it's got nothing to doWith my ballyhooed hue. I've always been blue. Go ahead, take it all down one more time.No, I've never set foot in an old silver mine.No, I'm not some kind of a darkroom bum.No, I've never gulped down one bullet or coin.No, no, no, it's just like I've been telling you:When my maker made me, he made me true blue. [End Page 163] I don't have a thing to get off my chest.I was a blue babe at my mother's breast.I grew up blue, and until I drop deadBeing blue is how I'll make my bread.They say even my shadow throws a blue glow,Somewhere between azure and indigo. Since when is being so blue such a sin?Out on the Midway, I've blended right in.There's Rubber Man and there's the Wild Man,And me in between, serene in my skin.It must be the pox or some foul agueThat's got me in knots right out of the blue. I must have heard every sick joke in the bookAbout blue ruin, blue moons, and blue balls...

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