"The Jazz Club" by Phillip Maxwell |
music lubricates my mind
the rhythm rolls my head
and my pen
music talks in mysteries
unmatched by words
(I wrote this one on another napkin at the same jazz club I visited with my sister in 2000. I don't feel like it really finishes its thought, but I love the way the words roll, so I figured it is worth a post.)
1 comment:
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