blow

the notes explode

coming from nowhere and everywhere

singular/plural

notes stone-written

on a dark primordial sheet

subsequent sheets notwithstanding

their authors the authors of death

sheets of ice

sheets of glass

let the historians argue about

texture and truth…

the trumpet never lies

when it whispers or sighs

that jazz is the woman

that is yet to be born.

she can be heard

at the occasional commemoration

the erection of a statue

centerpiece

of a dysfunctional fountain

of gray stone

of grey stone

the color of evolution

of ecstasy and aesthetics

smell the sound

smell the sound from the horn

beautiful

african funk flower

delicious

caribbean funk flower

precious

diasporan funk flower

midnight notes

the moon disappearing

an eclipse forced into

a pink envelope

sealed on third thought

the notes scramble the darkness…

the trumpet never lies

whether it moans or cries

that jazz is the woman

that is yet to be born.

she is the romance that

shines like brass

making eyes water and weep

blurring the reality

blurring the unreality

destroying all the scholarly discourse

invoking the intercourse

of an esoteric era

nubian notes

embraced only by the graced

who may or may not

give grace…

salvation

a screaming solo

that commands the chaos.