PLAYED JAZZ VIOLIN LIKE AN OUT OF TOWN JUNKIE

By Linda Lerner

He played down to nerve

twisting himself in sound;

played from his gut; dead screams

rumbling underground

speared into trees;

he played to free himself,

played with the soul of his mind

of his flesh,

in the sweltering night

licking ice cream crowd

he played like he had no time left

like a junkie, using his bow like his sex;

The Man supplying his own fix.

Arching, hips foward

desire without object

he curved high around each note;

hitting bottom

played like he had no skin;

like no cool New Yorker ever would.

JAMMING WITH THE ANGELS--TOWN HALL & ELSEWHERE

(5/19/94)

By Linda Lerner

For Andrew

A four day beat revival

of your own to mark 50

your day

happening

to be theirs

took us

to Town Hall/wake-

ning of Jack’s spirit

in shirt & tie worn pals

squeezing into old jive sounds

in you burst

thru twenty year restraints/

ordering of days...

always had an edge, though,

never quite fit

suit you wore

ripped off at last, as

Allen once might have done.

With a swinging chick

you stumbled on in me

one night,

blasted on jazz on wine on sex

mostly

high on you

hit a road

sweved off in reckless youth;

four days warned anyone who’d listen

of a second coming.

(not bad for a mortal)

candle lit you blew

all the Pall Mall burnt

stale air you could cough up

blew half century

rebellion

into

orbit.



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