Lost Highways

Later on we walked down to the jazz bar

Where Charles Mingus and Duke Ellington

Threw out wah-wah dreams

The trumpets whisper mysteries

Martini false dawns

Hi-hats leading us through the looking glass

We danced until death

Folding into each other like a deck of cards

Until we could take it no more

And as the saxophone reached its violent crescendo

And the jazz man collapsed on the floor

We fell into a fever

That has lasted forever

© Stuart Buck 2015

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