![]() Beat-Jazz in a Minute of SoulA Poem by UnendingOceansHear this, fear this, or maybe just see this: Jazz-rap spits syllables simmering just below boiling behind a brother who knows anger, lives in under a bridge, next to a streetlight flickering out, beside a coffee can filling with dirty rain. After a while he see’s a little kid dressed in shock and wrapped in rags, he’s even got a gnarly baseball cap on. Talk to him and the colors of night swirl until this man wakes up atop a rag-mattress, gets up in the morning light muted a little by curtains so old, rubs sleep out of his eyes and stretches it out of his back and thighs listen: streets outside hum and thrum in a soft rhythm of their own jazz that’s so Beat Ginsberg himself would’ve screamed with joy, but all this man does is get up, walk to take a piss, then walk to eat breakfast, thinking, “… all of this will end.” © 2012 UnendingOceansAuthor's Note
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Added on August 15, 2012Last Updated on August 15, 2012 Author![]() UnendingOceansAboutSometimes writing is painting for me. Either way, I like sharing it. more..Writing
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