Foot pedal and cymbals,
the beat,
the kettle drum,
and the girl and the hi-hat solo.
Good looking men
watch her deliver from the shadows.
Are you Jack?
Your table is ready …
Last minute folly, the table booked
from the back of a deadbeat bus,
a late-night jazz hall
at the end of a downtown boulevard.
The sound terrific, the saxophone,
beating in my veins,
and a kaleidoscope wall of jazz bar musicians –
Jolson, Davis, Berry, Baker,
framed complete,
while the audience roars
like thunder.