mckinney ave

thelonious monk plays
the sounds infusing
the empty lobby of the
building under renovation
punctuated by drills
the circular saw plays
a triumphant solo
against the backdrop of
the black and ivory
magic still penetrating
the endless din of workers

i find myself enthralled
by the paintings
with clever names like
diversity and effusion
in sharply paletted shades
of reds, browns and yellow
nearly the exact same
except for a series of
square blotches serving to
distinguish diverstiy
from the other five frames
knowing there must be
something beneath the
similarities to set them
all apart but unable to
find the hidden pattern

and the keys tinkle
in the brief lulls between
swinging hammers
rippling the plastic
drop cloth separating me
from the construction
as i wait patiently for
the security guard to
grant me entry to one
of the elevators staring
at me as i stare at the
paintings beneath a sensory
overload of thelonious and
a band of dilligent workers
looking for patterns to
hidden meanings buried
under thick paintstrokes

10 thoughts on “mckinney ave

  1. FUCK YOU! Ten goddamn miserable years and you never NEVER shared a goddamn thing with me. But go ahead and talk about fake shit with fake shit. You have NEVER shared one real thing with me because you are a HATEFUL bastard. You expect a shit ton from me and want me to share my life with you in this sick fuck box and not a real way but never have you ever given me anything that you haven’t already handed to some other girl first. You can write shitty poems till you die but your behavior shows me time and time again that everything and everyone is more important to you than me and you wouldn’t share anything real even if my life depended on it..FUCK YOU evil bastard

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      1. Bill Evans is one of my faves too. Miles Davis got me started. Kinda Blue. Then John Coltrane, Love Supreme. Nice to meet another jazz fan. I will look for Ryo. Thanks. ♥.

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          1. I can see why. Great stuff. I read his wiki page. He left too soon but it sounds like he had such a great life. A jazz café with his wife. I would love that. Some of his riffs remind me of how my son Ben plays piano. He composed a lot too but he removed it all or I’d send you to his page. Thanks again for the recommendation. ♥.

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          2. PS speaking of fiction and jazz, I wrote a short story once about a family jazz band on the moon called Some Kinda Love. “Some” were the initials of the people in the band, based on my husband, me, and two sons. The Kinda for Miles and Love for Coltrane. We always talked about starting a jazz band but …you know. Life and stuff. ♥.

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