 51.
god
he's good
his fingers know
the black keys and
the white 
and glow
in equal ostrich plumage notes
the theory behind the meter
floats pedagogically
lieder
of new york
new jersey
his rote routines are sunglasses
to music's sun
his agility
his suppleness
is quiet slurs &
sham a tad
behind the tap of father time
and stands in the air
like braying asses——
amid the taste of tears and fear
his wrists the pad
of a callused dancing bear
|