One grey day.
A threat of rain,
but nothing waters.
We are dry still.
Satiation at the coffee shop
welcomed by a poor sore throat.
One-two-three,
and happy jitters arrive
-on time-
with the otherwordly beats of a DJ's complex machinery.
Transcendence to a different place
where people speak in electronica,
awkward rhythms
and colors.
Psychedelia drawn in pastels-
vivid in time,
divine in nature.
And the man in the mustache kicks out the jams.
And the man in the mustache kicks out the jams.
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I love it when you post your poems. This one did not disappoint.
ReplyDeleteOh, I remember this mustached guy...his bass-looped melodies and chunky beats were such a welcome change to the usual coffee shop jazz and whinging singer-songwriting. And that vintage Rhodes organ; I wanted to meet him right away, even before I saw the mustache. Didn't you? I like the poetry he inspired you to write.
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