Foot pedal and cymbals, the beat,
the kettle drum, and the girl and the hi-hat solo.
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.

Written by Jack Brewis