Equinox at Frank's

Equinox at Frank Seago’s


It’s Christmas Eve 2018,

I’m alone in a frigid kitchen

beanie-hatted to beat the cold

trawling late-night radio options,

swerving drunkards singing carols, 

the crazy shite on phone-in shows -

plus jingles praising senna pods -

when right out of the blue I caught

a snatch of Coltrane’s Equinox.


I’m back in 1966,

a Debden council-house front-room;

cat-scratched armchairs, vinyl couches, 

and sundry drop-outs smoking dope.


The house rule? Three drags.  Pass it on.

The joint’s too strong. I cough. Uncool.

Frank rifles music from a pile,

‘Listen. These sounds will change your world.’


My world dissolved with every note

of Equinox and Love Supreme.

The tenor swept me far from Earth

to inner space. Jazz space. Dream space.


This girl, on the arm of my chair,

reeking of sandalwood and weed

pressed against me playing footsie. 

Nibbling my ear...  Promising... Sex?

I preferred My Favourite Things.


She had a brittle teenage cool

and put-on estuarine hip drawl

but all she knew of men derived

from youth club chat and Valentine.


Privately she liked The Beatles,

Susan Maugham and Dusty Springfield,

but wanted  me,  so made out like 

she dug Coltrane and Equinox.


In spite of Valentine advice -

‘virtue is precious – hold it fast’ –

she sucked me in and had her way.




◄ A Concrete Pond

Angoisse des Gares ►



Mon 28th Jan 2019 12:16

Cheers all - it was pretty hard getting all the lines at 8 syllables - you can sing 'when I survey the wondrous cross' to it (not advisable) - the music was on the radio last Friday but I moved it to xmas eve for atmos.
Incidentally - the bird in question? Reader, I married her ?

Sadly, 'Frank' died from heroin as did a lot of the crowd - I had gone on the road before the mousse hit the fan.

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Sun 27th Jan 2019 23:24

Your mind is like one of those old amusement arcade machines where you put your money in , and out comes What the butler Saw or such like thrills. Always a tingle of satisfaction you give us Rick - such work is something that matures with age and its retrospectives.


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Dave Caplan

Sun 27th Jan 2019 19:17

Hi Rick,
Enjoyed re-living the memories your poem evoked.
I didn't do drugs, just Golden Virginia rolled in liquorice paper !
But for a while I was a roadie with a shithouse band who could screw better than they could play.

Groupies, gangbangs and alcohol were all part of the after-gig scene then, just as they still are now. Memories eh !


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Tommy Carroll

Sun 27th Jan 2019 13:55

I logged on in order to say; been there done that bought the cd. Now I will have to go and play Coltrane and avoid the outside storms. Thanks Rick.


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