I Am with You, or
The Fantasy’s All Mine

—for Lester Bowie                  

For some folks
the doctor was never in
But for me
whenever I went
he was right on time
and I left feeling better 

He took my pulse
and when he thumped my chest
I heard pulmonary porters
from Armstrong to Ayler
I said Ah

The doctor was out

Sometimes
sitting down rocking
from side to side on his chair
you might wonder
if his research
had been a little too intense

Maybe it wasn’t easy
claiming to heal
with those old tools
out of his black bag 

The man could burn

He was a chef
who wasn’t afraid
to use ingredients he knew
you’d always have a taste for
down home cooking
with just enough spices
you’d never expect
would play together

He’d take an old recipe and
doctor it up just so