Down at the club

Down at the club
the drums beat jazz ba-bam
ba-bam-bam-boo
to taps of of hundred feet and humming sax:
while with a tearful wail the
trumpet hails our night of righteous fights.
Down at the club the rye is raw;
we burn both ends with neon eyes;
we sing with voices drawn from singe of bass
dwa-wam dwa-wa-wam wam-wam
we bleed in black-keyed blues;
while with our hands on hips of hers
and with her lips in ears
we slip, we sway to drips of jazz;
unleashed with countless drinks
we dance till dawn —
down at the club till dawn.

JerryWMcDanielStudio_AllThatJazz_20x24, 11/19/12, 12:02 AM, 16C, 7018×8880 (1068+1044), 150%, Custom, 1/12 s, R21.3, G12.5, B29.1

Today we write jazz poetry with Amaya who hosts the bar at dVerse tonight. Bring us the best of free verse with jazz and rhythm. Get inspired by Miles Daves and others… and why not this concert from Stockholm 1963.

Welcome – the bar opens at 3 PM EST.

November 23, 2017

20 responses to “Down at the club

  1. Your poem’s as tight as Herbie’s playing (the best cats making it all sound so loose and easy.) My favorite line/image:
    “we burn both ends with neon eyes;” that “Z” sound getting in the gut like the low sax.

  2. kaykuala

    unleashed with countless drinks
    we dance till dawn —

    It obviously had been a memorable night!

    Hank

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