jazz
sunset jazz
sundown jazz
track rollin’ radio jazz
spunky 60s jazz
when the drugs of experience
rumbled onto the land
of the never again
snapshot from
another time
miles
can only be talkin’
‘bout miles
miles ahead
away
gone
in ace black
trumpet visions
decades old
decades young
centuries too
old / young time
spun around
and inside out
in time out here
millennia are clearly
simply unmistakably
pulse-powered
infinities
totem pole immensities
sealed in shinin’ symphony
of red earth dazzle
to the extremities of space
which we walk upon
as wrapped around the finger
of how it is to be
to which i am a stranger -
nonsense maybe
but these track rollin’
pretension prizes
are what you now see
comin’ outta me
when will it stop?
when will it end?
anytime ya want it to
ain’t nuthin’ fancy
about these
scribbles soon to disappear
easy as abc
plyin’ cycles
of hungry determination
unrestrained
deservedly won’t do
life can kill ya
fill ya full
an’ overspill ya
best to take things as they come
but sometimes
even that philosophy
of the tin pot
don’t stop me from feelin’
all at sea
what did i do?
what have i done?
stranger to me
is what you see
dunno those outer edges
inner fences
not always under the
constant observation
needed to diminish
interferences
provocations
misunderstandings
misinterpretations
that can only end in
infamy
