Tha' Old Jazz Poet

See tha' jazz man

shakin' in his seat,

he's-a clapping at tha' drummer,

a diff'rent tempo, diff'rent beat.

 

He's a-wailing at tha' moon

to tha' sax'phonists delight,

and cracks a grin thru beady eyes,

man tha' jazz man packs a bite!

 

He aint no stopping

so clambers up tha' stage

and sillhouettes an empty seat,

hell! naught defies his age.

 

"Oh yeah, I love you"

he crones down the mic!

"I, uh, yeaaah, you!"

He damned sing what he like.

 

Now he'd merge into tha' spotlights

and drift up to tha' flame,

old jaz poet came and went -

he aint go coming back again.

 

Yet later you spot him stumbling

and you go offer your hand ...

but this aint no unsteady man,

he just a rhythm in the band.

Author's Note

In a bar in Darwin Australia, this man was the only free person I have ever met.