Jazz Fusion

Vibrations of hard claps and hand percussion,

rumble off between play and drum.

Sounds of transit, sounds of information systems

    careen.

When at the center

    rotations and futurist daydreams settle.

Taken as a whole,

a galley of auditory reflections. In an instance,

in a carpool, 

  in three rings 

the next stare belongs to the omnipresent, hyper-extended, fiber-optics.

Like wrinkles on an old fantasy. De-layered,

cryptic, absolute, gone.

Author's Note

Criticism is always welcome, any and all.