Home » Jazz Articles » Jazz Poetry » Sattamassagana For Rosie

227

Sattamassagana For Rosie

By

View read count
Grief, desire, memory. When utilized properly, they can serve to provide a sort of forward motion. Even if only down the street for that last drink of the evening. From somewhere nearby can be heard the faint tinkling of a piano as it has a conversation with itself.

What do I have, what do I want? I close my eyes to make the here and now waiver. Her kiss, no, it is just the coolness of an ice cube now left alone in an empty glass.

I am not avoiding going home, but there is an album which goes perfectly with a certain hour that has yet to come.

I must wait a while longer before I can let the needle sink down into the record, following it into sleep.

I look around, a few sleepy eyed refugees from what it fast becoming yesterday. I pull my notepad pout of my pocket. It holds a white envelope which I had forgotten about in its mouth.

I am superstitious, king of the land under the ladder, it's a sign. I will write her, then I can go. I am already humming that first song. I just want to tell her that I am here, that I know. It is a lie only in that it is all more for my sake than hers.

I put it in the envelope, my missive, the doodle of a pinecone, before I can change my mind.

Although I normally don't, I write my name on the envelope's upper left hand corner. There it was, an alien thing, perching on the three lines of my address. I felt like having eggs, with a beauty mark of Tabasco on each yoke. And for a moment I am grateful to have a desire which I knew would be satisfied. The bartender was whipping the zinc with a rag, a jockey in the final stretch. I nod to the waitress now holding up the far wall.

Outside a taxi pulls up, a woman gets out. She is in a black cocktail dress, shoes in one hand, she stretches, raising both arms over her head making the late night air receipt a poem upon her flesh.

The driver leans across the front seat asking me if I needed a ride home. I nod my head no. I have a short enough walk to tomorrow.

Tags

Comments


PREVIOUS / NEXT




Support All About Jazz

Get the Jazz Near You newsletter All About Jazz has been a pillar of jazz since 1995, championing it as an art form and, more importantly, supporting the musicians who make it. Our enduring commitment has made "AAJ" one of the most culturally important websites of its kind, read by hundreds of thousands of fans, musicians and industry figures every month.

Go Ad Free!

To maintain our platform while developing new means to foster jazz discovery and connectivity, we need your help. You can become a sustaining member for as little as $20 and in return, we'll immediately hide those pesky ads plus provide access to future articles for a full year. This winning combination vastly improves your AAJ experience and allow us to vigorously build on the pioneering work we first started in 1995. So enjoy an ad-free AAJ experience and help us remain a positive beacon for jazz by making a donation today.

More

Jazz article: Head Chart
Jazz Poetry
Head Chart
Jazz article: Miles Runs The Voodoo Down
Jazz article: A Little Rain In Arkansas
Jazz article: 6jazzhaiku
Jazz Poetry
6jazzhaiku

Popular

Read Take Five with Pianist Irving Flores
Read Jazz em Agosto 2025
Read Bob Schlesinger at Dazzle
Read SFJAZZ Spring Concerts
Read Sunday Best: A Netflix Documentary
Read Vivian Buczek at Ladies' Jazz Festival

Get more of a good thing!

Our weekly newsletter highlights our top stories, our special offers, and upcoming jazz events near you.

Install All About Jazz

iOS Instructions:

To install this app, follow these steps:

All About Jazz would like to send you notifications

Notifications include timely alerts to content of interest, such as articles, reviews, new features, and more. These can be configured in Settings.