More Jazz Poems

August 26th, 2012 Comments Off


Cockney Accent


orange cat
whatever was keeping me warm is gone now
when the neighbors cough I hear it through our old walls
that got painted, and nailed, and banged on a few times.
Im finking I wish i spoke with a deep Cockney accent
like I would find my people.  We’d fall in
We’d backslap.
But then quiet and a stretch to hear the birds sing
a prego anticipation.
wait for it.
Or is it just me wheezing?



Little Dicks


Im marveling at the crotch of the New York Dolls
desperately trying to identify
We are a different kind of band
We try to angle our intellect to compensate for our little dicks.




This History Cannot be Deleted


i smell burnt hair on the outbreath
moving my head around to avoid the glare
it shows the fingerprints, this history cannot be deleted.
Access to star streams come form from the white man on the moon
and the Negro before Salt Peanuts, Charlie Brown vs the just plain bored.




A Canyon Etched in Lilting and Dappled Light


Shelve you meditation plans for today
thrill that she read the poem you posted in the bathroom
pick at your calluses
sit through the commercial
rub at your shoulders
groove on the canyon etched between your eyebrows
oh that’s character.




I Like to Call Him ‘Trane


Well shit, now i have to rally
Ryan is listening to jazz pretty hard.
No big i mean just like Coltrane
or ‘Trane as I like to call him.




We Interrupt


We interrupt this poem.




Four Seasons


four seasons
thats what i think i want
i think i am ready
i think i can handle it this year.



You Really Should


i have to get it before the screen changes
if its not here now will it every be?  whats with all the questions
What with the Soul?  the bass line pumps it hard.

PS. you’re really should




TheTortured Artist


The Tortured Artist
made sushi last night for Besse
washed the dishes this morning and sat down to write this.




If We are gonna do this, You have to drive


no i can’t drive
cars in the shop
no gas
ok no money for gas
id rather look out the window
you’ve seen all this a thousand times





We have to Grow Old


man i hate the internet cartoon on the tech savvy and
scarf wearing alt indie headphones guy that sells the life
we’ll never have because we just missed it.
what s all the rave is not our scene
but we cannot retreat to a park bench just yet
We have to grow old.





escucha un nuevo disco de
pablo arevan en spotify.

I took the tomatoes for show
like a vase or a smart people book.
a design within reach
here goes nothin.

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