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Jazz Poetry

The Green Mill

By Published: September 11, 2004
We took the redline to Lawrence
and checked the world at the door
in the footsteps of all those before
who found solace in sax and
draped themselves in neon dreams

I must confess
how easily I acquiesced
to the Gresik groove
hundreds moved
as broad shoulders unloaded
some say this swing-style's outmoded.
It don't mean a thing

Brother, I felt the pulse
The heart's still tickin'
after all these years
And I'm the first to say
That I'm blown away

If relics we are, I accept it
This hurried world, I reject it
As I go back in my mind
to a simpler time
learn a new step and perfect it.

Green Mill
(Chicago 8.19.04)



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