Thursday Nite Jazz


Thursday nite Jazz:

Sitting up front,
Feeling the brunt,
So close to the ensemble
	as it assembles
	it makes me tremble
		to think what they resemble.
Hot sax, like hot sex,
	so smooth I glide
		as tho high on nitrous oxide.
Soulful cat on drums hits tips, taps,
	& a pitter-patter
	so cool life no longer matters
		(& in the background a maestro snaps).
Slider on alto sax solo,
	so low,
	so slow,
		just blow, man, blow.
Accents on the drum,
	smoking hash,
		arms fly so fast I get whiplash.

& the man tapping the four-four beat,
comes to a stop & stands still on his feet,
it's been so neat, tonite was such a treat,
but now it's over, the music complete.

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Last revised: 8-01-01