reverse Rorshachs (an evening at the Boarding House)

his light, fabric gig bag
slips easily off of his
electric bass
he plugs in and runs scales
and funky improvisations
while the pianist and drummer
set up

their music does the same for me
as the Taoist meditation
my therapist taught me

puts a sweet flame in my heart

jazz juxtaposes discipline
with deeply felt
experience

I draw while they play
approach the bass player
during their break
show him my drawing
my gift for his --

"It's a reverse Rorshach"
I explain, two simple lines
curving together

"How so?" he asks.

"In a better world,
a psychiatrist
might try to find out
how sane you are
instead of how sick you are
a patient might look at this
and say, 'That pattern looks like
a heart
or two swans in love'"

Gary introduces himself
says we have got to hang out
sometime
I visit his apartment
once or twice
for lessons
walking bass lines

we run into each other
every 10 years or so now
East side, West side
by synchronicity
he, having shed his vocation
like a fabric gig bag
-- a counselor now

me, shedding assorted neuroses
Rorshach, reverse or not
the world appearing brighter
by the decade