T.M.
"He started it all." - Art Blakey
Highly personal, now
brittle and spastic
now firm & out
side. Angular and
nagging at the
un-solid core, the
bone and crepuscule.
Beyond Race.
Gifford takes it
in the morning
straight
no
chaser necessary
'ld
only water
down the flavor
and we need it
thick.
THICK as your fingers
plunking down two
keys at once THICK.
We take
our daily juice
w/ the
grease with the
grease Wynton
seems
to have missed
in his
shelter.
Nothing standard
about this Sphere.
Even the sun's
rays
take
eight
minutes to warm
our fragile rock.
Spinning in a circle
the joy of being
or
the antidote to madness,
the price to pay?
Circle
me again Thelonious,
I see the look of Miles'
when your angles
cut off disturbed
his egg-shell
process.
He
bought the hype, you
just wanted
to
play.
Huge indeed, we
are still catching
up to your Ugly Beauty, we are
past the eleventh
hour & now Round
is the mad man
piano-playing spell-
caster? Who
is Blue now Mr.
Sphere? You jam
you spin you invent
new riddles to ponder.
Who turns in circles
I
ASK
YOU
NOW
and listen
listen
listen
.
peN #659