In Those Days

IMPROVISATION BLUES

empty hall
it’s not going to happen to you is it 
am I too early?
am I too late?

after so many gigs
time becomes relative 
you could say
that in a sense but you’re not sure which 
you’re always on time

the hall is empty
on the edge of the stage
an ashtray is gleaming in the poor light of jazz 
above it my cigarette smoke spirals upwards 
the girl at the bar is texting her girlfriend 
about shoes and her mum
it’s hardly encouraging

okay just do what you normally do 
test the mouthpiece
and then the long sustained note 
a full blast from your lungs 
straight to the heart
of what it’s about
maybe they’ll still show up 
I’m here at least


———————————————————

CHET BAKER

His voice is a gentle shower of rain 
like the small feet of the strange girl 
on the soft carpet

or the music one hears
in the evening from islands in the Vitava River 
where volleyball nets are strung tight.

In the front of his mouth love sings hesitantly
Gentle rain a cloud of mosquitoes in the summer 
the pond with geese in the dirty white village 
that looked so Russian.

Kiss me.

We sailed day after day
I was glad when we came to the rapids
sad when the morning fog drifted into the tent carrying girls’ names 

Love lies snugly on his tongue.

His voice is poetry like pebbles rubbed smooth by glass 
the broken line of pencil on paper
your eyes that I adore 

kiss me

Gentle rain highly romantic against the window 
I lay down my arms I’m empty-handed
I’m a blood-soaked skeleton fill me with gentleness 

kiss me with the warm mouth of your music body.