carl jung does coltrane

in turn, like cherished childhood
vagrancies, curb-sitting at corner stores
and such, i remember with such great
smiling eyes, the moments of laying on couches
listening to coltrane in the dark
dribbling out babble about music being
closer to perfect than we know
and thinking how fine it must be
to fall into such flows, in synchronicity
with sounds that everything falls free
without pulls or wails or taunts,
just outwards like breaths across
long ocean-lives and nile-virus awareness
passing from one person to another
like muhammad ali passing the olympic torch, 1996.

2004-07-15 | 11:20 a.m.
0 comments so far

previousnext

background