You got the Jazz

The future has no formula baby…

It’s all Jazz.

It’s the ultimate improvisation.

No script,

No plot

Except the one that the Big Man got.

It’s not in your 401k

or retirement plot

and it’s most assuredly

not in the hole that your

head is buried in.

You thought you

thought it


Quite thoroughly but in

real time

it’s just a giant knot

that they got you tangled up in,

They star spangled you up again

(Singing D’Angelo style) “And they laughin in yo face once again, got yo mouth up on they hook…one mo gin’”

It’s just the same old lies

strewn from the snake’s green eyes

In the Garden of Eden

with Eve and them

And after all that,

the wars and the bullshit reasons for war

after all the millions and millions

of innocent simple folks

Uncle Sam murdered by the bushel…

the smoke cleared

we all got in gear

behind television fear,

We forgot about the lies and believed again.

Amnesia is the state

that we ALL are licensed and insured in.

The Rat race marathon

where Nobody keeps winning

The Worldwide Web

That we are all happy to be stuck in.

The reason we all keep


in circles

trying to eat, drink,

sleep and watch the watch-box.

It’s all Jazz baby,

It’s the worst note

sung and hung on the wall

with the Karaoke speakers

And the speakers

aren’t speaking anymore

they are screaming

“Die you fucking shaved monkeys!”

“But die slow so we can get our flow…”

Drink your miller’s light

wear your team’s colors.

Swallow the pills

they give you

and wash it down with

sips from your diamond-laden cups

and try to find the time.

Have you ever seen Miles Davis tap his feet to find the beat?

Never my man,

Hey Man!

He was the master of improvisation

he rode that wind without a scowl or grin,

He is the reason

they stopped calling us boys

And reason we call each other men.

You all cannot bob your head to anything but a four-four,

What will you do with a 6/8 or a 12/8?

Five time?

What if it swings from Staccato’s branches?

Or hangs from Legato’s leggings?

It’s the new bowl of gumbo;

slung around the corner

on the first day that your pension plan kicks in odd meter (Somebody spent it)

The future is improvisation

my sissy boy nation!

Jazz is improvisation

And it’s the truth

And it never sounds the same anymore

the Truth wears no make up and has no agenda.

It’s everything that you think will last,

everything you thought would last.

You sweat up your shoes

pulled out your hair for the future!

You planned without the plans my man!

Does the architect build his dream house with dreams that he drummed up while dreaming?

I don’t know about you …but me? But I’m always scheming…

Never hoping or believing

I’m just banging

on my drums to whatever

Beat I choose in the





Dogs days down (2012)

Dog Days Down


The hole

With all my kinfolk,

we plot,

We scheme; more money,

less money,

sweat up your shoelaces until the big bell rings

Calling all us sinners

Back to the copper altar

Inside the brown church house.

Dog Days bleed


the apocalyptic sunset

Leaving us blue in the anxious evening tide.

Trying to pay the bills

piled on the dinner table





All the junk

They keep pouring




We are all stuck in.

Dog Days leave me


With my messy thoughts;

Webbed in Fear’s Holy chalice,


The dream dust from my tiny kingdom of hope.

My Dog Days dive deep

Inside summer’s sweaty

Sunburned skin,


Always searching




To show that the finest diamonds


My Lion-Heart


Worth more than this wide wasted world will ever know.