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author14

If you don't learn to write your own story, someone else will write it for you

51 poems·Since September 2019
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Jazz

September 21, 2019

Oh yeah, it's our music

Good ole U.S. beats

The flying of the piano keys

The woo woo woo of the trumpet

Then we got the sax--that birdie bugle

And our bass, deep pluckings.

We hear it in our elevators

Movies with rich and poor

Jazz is for all people

If I went to nightclubs, I'd hear it there

Jazz is the music of the night

Hot summer nights in the city

Jazz is the music of America

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