Solo by Charles Mingus. Poem by D.R. James.

Jazz scene, Paris, 1964

Everyone Talks During the Bass Solo

– Billy Collins, “1960”

Oh, it sounded like, Che ate Pat’s

grandma! And I’m like…. Before

I forget, the “Check Engine” light

came on again. And “Cruise Control”

keeps flashing. I never noticed

Joanne won’t let anything go. Where

do you think those two came in from?

Another Scotch rocks? This time

last year we had no idea. I miss

seeing smoke curling up past

a bass player’s face. Remember

the guy from the gallery? Broke,

that’s why. The Knicks couldn’t buy

a bucket. I dunno know how she

functions. “Yeah,” he says, “if I hear

that son of a bitch, bitch one more

time….” So I was thinking we could

cancel that. God, they grow up

so fast. But it is what it is. We

should order something. I love how

the sax player just leaves. When

is Christmas this year? Couldn’t

keep up. Oh, cats’re easy compared

to dogs. Too funny. Something

to do with his fucking brother’s

mother-in-law. On a good day, under

an hour. No way! Way. Whatever,

my ass. I just like a tune with words.

Another Scotch rocks? Watch, he’ll

barely cue the band. In garbage

Nineveh clever of the ender pike gist!

Stereo Story #803

This poem first appeared at Verse-Virtual.