O-Jazz-O War Memoir: Jazz, Don’t Listen To It At Your Own Risk

In the beginning, in the wet Warm dark place, Straining to break out, clawing at strange cables Hearing her screams, laughing “Later we forgave ourselves, we didn’t know” Some secret jazz Shouted,wait, don’t go. Impatient, we came running, innocent Laughing blobs of blood & faith. To this mother, father world Where laughter seems out of place So we learned to cry, pleased They pronounce human. The secret Jazz blew a sigh Some familiar sound shouted wait Some are evil, some will hate. “Just Jazz, blowing its top again” So we rushed & laughed. As we pushed & grabbed While jazz blew in the night Suddenly they were too busy to hear a simple sound They were busy shoving mud in men’s mouths, Who were busy dying on the living ground Busy earning medals, for killing children on deserted street corners Occupying their fathers, raping their mothers, busy humans we Busy burning Japanese in atomicolorcinemascope With stereophonic screams, What one hundred per cent red blooded savage, would waste precious time Listening to jazz, with so many important things going on But even the fittest murderers must rest So they sat down in our blood soaked garments, and listened to jazz lost, steeped in all our death dreams They were shocked at the sound of life, long gone from our own They were indignant at the whistling, thinking, singing, beating, swinging, They wept for it, hugged, kissed it, loved it, joined it, we drank it, Smoked it, ate with it, slept with it They made our girls wear it for lovemaking Instead of silly lace gowns, Now in those terrible moments, when the dark memories come The secret moments to which we admit no one When guiltily we crawl back in time, reaching away from ourselves They hear a familiar sound, Jazz, scratching, digging, blueing, swinging jazz, And listen, And feel, & die.