Joel Banner Baird recites his composition memorializing early exploits of the three kings. read along as shown below.. He also plays bass, while jhaffur khan azad darakth, adds percussion and keyboard accompaniment.
UNDERCOVER AT THE FACULTY CLUB
Incognito
in or out of costume
vagabonds uninvited
and yet so very much at ease
at minimum moreso
than those for whom
party-time protocols
dissolve in alcohol
and torsos
invitees disguised
among savage
intramural fantasies
scarves
and the scent of licensed
misbehaving
what happens here
stays here professor
what happens here stays here
masked and feathered
a fetching, frisky
doctorate in French
never-minds her manners
“Darren-darling, is that you?”
the height and carriage exactly right
so bold of him: in ladies’ sunglasses
marvelous, marveilleux
nod and sang-froid
this Darren /not-Darren
ascot and elan
a preposterous
silent, affable tease
professor presses closer
almost-almost but
not-Darren/Darren
momentarily blind
flips a coin
“Excuse me hmmm humm,”
half-chortle half-chewed
he swallows
and surveils
the baa-ing mob of highbrow jive
smears of jazz-light on the hi-fi
our hero’s ears
ring and quail
he pales
will he falter
will he faint?
to himself he moans:
“no, not-Darren, no!
rotate and re-join
your two confrères
at the well-appointed table
at the pre-appointed time
stand up to the buffet
stand by
bolt meaty dainties
down sparky punch
pocket wads
of crudités and starch”
for soon they cross the border
merriment of a sort
poses learned and learnéd
so far so giddy good
so far so giddy good
thrift-shop mufti
pants-seat pilfer
insinuate and feast
at the heart of hilarity
until —
intrusions of
boozy rumors spill
sinister
stage whisper
“Are they one of us?”
“Are they one of us?”
no one knows
a tenured chair
of a big-league sub-committee
most alert to caste and type-cast
hypothesizes thus:
“an unknown number of unknowns
have stained our night
sophomoric duplicity!
audacity!
mimicry!
shame!”
in carnival consensus
the elders gird their glands
to force our unwashed hands
a trio of twin-eyes dart
pupils wide with adrenaline
arrested by a whisper
Kimberly clings and breathes
“You three must stay
until the crazy games”
she can’t of course know
the jig is rigged-up
the game’s insane
by secret signal
it’s beat it gents
high-tail highway
in a fugue:
“yes-of-course-the-games
of-course-the-games
of-course-of-course
regret-of-course-the-games”
“eh. eh. eh”
they shrug
“eh. eh. eh.”
behind tattered veils
sashaying with eddies
of caterered empty trays
backstage to club kitchen
where oddly, oddly
it’s never too late for hymns:
“bless, bless
the loyal lower loyalties
the light-fingered fellowship
of hired-help mercenaries
bless these angel partisans
for the skin they save
amen”
in rented uniforms
in character
in poker-face
muster as if by prior plan
the saviors
form a funnel
to thereby
steer, pour and exfiltrate
via service door
we three
we three kings.
\
March2023
