Nighthawks at the Door (Old Poem)

Brian B

Location: Thunder Bay, Canada
Birthday: November 14

Title: Devil's Advocate
Company: The Sort of Company your mother warned you about

Bio: A Work in Progress. When not doing the devil's work, I'm the single parent of two great young men, living playing and working in beautiful Thunder Bay Ontario. That's at the western end of Lake Superior - the North end of Highway 61. from here, you can just drive all the way to New Orleans, though I have yet to do it.

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JUNE 28, 2009 10:23AM

Rate: 8 Flag

Nighthawks at the door, calling

They want to blow your mind

with rock and roll music.

Sixteen hours of night work,

put a pot of coffee on,

drink a gallon down,

never need no sleep.

Sleep is for the dead.

Midnight so long past,

it seems like yesterday.

These are the nighthawk hours.

You better be ready

When they come

knockin' at your door.

January 12, 1977

Author tags:

music, poetry

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Comments

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I remember those days very well....

cartouche

June 28, 2009 10:32 AM

i still keep these hours. lovely poem, brian. just wonderful. what made you think of this? love love love and gratitude

Theodora L'Engle Knight

June 28, 2009 10:55 AM

About the time you wrote this I was working nights for a great metropolitan taxi company in Boston. I loved the night and all the coffee and the mystery and getting paid for having insomnia!

CoyoteOldStyle

June 28, 2009 11:14 AM

I love old poems and what they say and reveal about us.
Very cool, Brian.

wakingupslowly

June 28, 2009 11:24 AM

thanks for the comments.
thea - not sure where my brain was when I wrote it. I have a note on the original that I actually started it over my Christmas vacation - that was second year university. My body woulda been in Thunder Bay, then Kingston, my brain I suspect was influenced by Bob Segar (Night Moves) and too much caffeine
COS: love to hear more about the great cab co...