(for the Birdman & Lady Day R.I.P)

As the heed call nudges the bird,
he floats off elegantly effortlessly
stroking his hairy-lunged instrument
It has been said that sustained intensity equals ecstacy
"We know, you don't, I am a member,"
shouts a drunken patron from the crippled bar stool of borrowed age

O now Lady Day rises for me once more
in deep liquid navy-blue serenade resonance
I plea, "Diminishing gasp of faithe take me with you,"

And so our Bird lives! Our coarse Bird soars!

French cursive curse verbs sway beside the rabid bird with churning lungs
Comatose sounds slip thru the voiding cracks of me
Crude velocity slit into cultured compact interiors seething
Lyric resurrection grind gave smooth head climax, burst triumphant
Crowned hands of syncopation
Word world of Duke-minded lords under exploration
Acurrate blue-print impressions sit in dominant fingers translating timelessness
Bright flash glimpse springs loose towering over swimming spirit liquified
Bombarding the jade heart conjoining at the punctured soul
Combined with some serious cruel pats of a beating drum
( Chick Webb's a Dizzie as Gillespie )
I am compelled to slide in on juicy knees,
the dance floor slippery from droves of splashed champagne bottles
They litter the jazz floor making mirrors of themselves
My reflection is that of a drunken stupor