Jazz: The City
Dream tall and feel in on things
Here comes the new. There goes:
The sad stuff
The bad stuff
The things-no-one-could-help stuff
The space between two poems
Falls out of the sky.
It makes a pretty picture on its way down
May never expect to catch the eye of the city
The trick of shapes and light and movement
Forget and miss it
What happened to the stars?
Made irrelevant
By thrilling wasteful
Street lamps.
Oh mama! Oh mama!
The first time, the first time!
Eased the pain Flesh with pleasure
Rogue, You Surrender
Look where you are.
Look.
Now.
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