A roach
came stuttin
across my bedroom
floor,
like it was beyond
reproach,
or was
some sexy-lookin
whore,
and if I hadn’t
snuffed it,
left it
alive,
I know it would’ve
come right up
and gave me
five!!!!!!!
String-chewing bass players,
Plucking rolled balls of sound
From the jazz scented night
Feeding hungry beat seekers
Finger shaped heartbeats,
Driving ivory nails
Into their greedy eyes.
Smoke crystals, from the nostrils
Of released jazz demons,
Crash from... MINGUS by Bob Kaufman.
