Jazz Word Jazz at the Black Dog Coffee and Wine Bar

Saturday, February 13, 2016
7 pm – 11 pm

The time
it takes to recite
all the epigraphs
on all the buildings
aligning the streets
within the city
in her dreams
is time

she won’t waste
trying to reinvent
your eyes,
your lips,
the way
you say
good-bye without
a word.

then the snow
then 400 car crashes
then one pedestrian
run over dies
then empty streets
then all quiet
except for the wind
as it rattles tarps
covering the half-built
then first names
only then no one
sees the sun set

She translates the drip
better than the swish
of paint. Mosquito versus
human better than
mosquito alarms versus
congregating teens.

At what frequency
will they lose her?
Will she choose to give up
delicious solitude
for an evening inside
a crowded music venue?

She doesn’t hear
the answer. She sees
she’s got it all wrong.

The highest frequency
leaves a trail
of graffiti
along a sea wall
she has loved
more than water itself.

when it’s too cold
to snow
or wait for the bus
she walks
with purpose
along a city sidewalk
into a tall building
up a back staircase
through a skyway
to nowhere
reinventing what it means
to arrive

I can do that?

Become who he will be
before his father’s voice changes
for the better. Without question.

He wants to believe stars
look different when
dandelion clocks fuel

the bonfire rather than
punk or other tinder
before tinder was Tinder.

Become who I am
in a Kokomo family room
when Ziggy sings on TV.

I was an alien
in my own backyard.
The words won’t come.

Ziggy dances,
but someone else plays
guitar. I play piano

left-handed. Become who he is
when he became a she.
I can do that?

She has the deepest voice
in school. The boys
haven’t cracked yet.

She sings left-handed.
We keep time
by the leaving seeds.