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Killers Before Breakfast
New York City, 1974
It was the morning after. On the night
before, we'd played at Max's Kansas City,
with Stevie Wonder sitting in the house,
and Johnny Winter joining later. They
had come for Bobby Bland, for whom we opened,
but they heard our set. The room was small,
not deep, and we could see the audience.
When you really get them – you can tell.
For once we weren't driving overnight,
so we stayed up and crashed in the hotel,
and it was early, much too early, when
a few of us went out to find some breakfast.
We dragged ourselves into the elevator:
Duke in his fedora, Rich with locks
flowing long below his pork-pie hat,
as if Lester Young were Wild Bill Hickok.
John had his wig, and I just had my hair,
but motionless, eyes slitted against morning,
we four leaned back like tilted packing crates
against the back wall of the empty car.
We crawled down a few floors; came to a stop.
The doors slid open, and a woman peered
in at us and blanched, and paused; then, eyes
big with alarm, she stepped into our space.
She stood at the side wall, by the door,
and clutched a shopping bag, a kerchief on
her head, tensely alert, fully awake.
We made no remark. Our ride resumed.
After three more floors, she broke the silence.
“Please don't kill me,” she said. We assured her
we were just musicians who'd stayed up
and hadn't slept much, and we needed coffee.
This seemed to calm her down, and we descended.
Before the doors could open on the lobby,
solemn, plain, she spoke once more: “I have
to tell the truth. You look like murderers.”
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Poet/playwright, singer/songwriter, and cornet player, Al Basile is known to blues fans world-wide, with 20 solo albums and 8 nominations for Blues Music Awards. He has three books of poetry (the most recent is 2021's Solos, from Antrim House) and five verse audio plays (his 2021-22 plays Hill&Dale and Open Question won gold and platinum awards from the HEARnow national audio drama festival). He is a member of the Powow River poets and is the host of the online poets-in-conversation show Poems On.
To hear Al Basile reading “Killers before Breakfast,” click
Killers Before Breakfast - Al Basile
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I love this poem!…the images and rhythm! And of course, “the murderers”!…But also on another level, the very real way we judge folks by the way they look…Great poem! Thanks Terence and Al!
Posted by: Sr. Leslie | January 12, 2025 at 10:28 AM
Through the humor and irony, Basile cares about that woman. That's one reason among many that he's so great.
Posted by: Grace Cavalieri | January 12, 2025 at 10:33 AM
Thanks, Leslie---glad you liked it.
Posted by: Terence Winch | January 12, 2025 at 10:33 AM
Still laughing! Thanks I needed it.
Posted by: Maureen Owen | January 12, 2025 at 12:48 PM
I love this poem, the humor and details of how the musicians appeared. It’s a wonderful poem.
Posted by: Eileen Reich | January 12, 2025 at 01:11 PM
bamitty bam bam! damn
Posted by: lally | January 12, 2025 at 01:21 PM
Last night's fun! Love this musical and very real poem! Bravo! You killed it!
Posted by: Bill Nevins | January 12, 2025 at 01:29 PM
Al has a keen eye for the ordinary
and an ear for the timbre within a whisper.
Posted by: Steve S. Rolling | January 12, 2025 at 02:24 PM
He writes as if he's got a room full of blues.
Posted by: Geoffrey Himes | January 12, 2025 at 08:01 PM
Great title.
Posted by: susan campbell | January 12, 2025 at 08:37 PM
Yes, great. There are not enough life-on-the-road poems.
Everyone looks like a murderer if you squint hard enough.
Posted by: Bernard Welt | January 12, 2025 at 10:39 PM
terror of The Other. But Basile handled it brilliantly and kindly, as does the poet.
Posted by: clarinda | January 13, 2025 at 11:04 AM
What a terrific poem to start off the week! What Lally & Welt said. I recall being in a crowded elevator with Anselm Hollo when he uttered aloud to the surrounding strangers, "You know, only one of us is getting out of this box alive!" followed by his heh-heh-heh laugh. People practically sprinted out the opening door on the ground floor. Thanks, Al and Terence!
Posted by: David Beaudouin | January 13, 2025 at 12:38 PM
Proof that we live in the blues.
Posted by: Jack Ridl | January 16, 2025 at 11:56 AM
What an experience to write about. Emblematic of our contemporary world, though.
Posted by: Tom Davis | January 25, 2025 at 08:18 AM