This is the a poem from a new collection I'm working on, Rubber Orchestras. The collection will feature 100 poems, and will be published in early 2011 if all goes to plan. More soon.
Riff for Morton
Damper down
both phallic and acquainted
with African blues.
The hips suggest
good jazz )(i.e.sex)
Anita, 1900.
the african fiction of whiteness is absolute.
arcade saloons and dance halls
gambling down like evil or false notes
blue notes of white magic
Jelly roll morton
at the cadillac cafe
pimp or piano drunk and sick
on the bricktops of vancouver
Ragtime Billy
from Chicago
a clarinetist at the Regent
1923
went southwest with the wrath of poseidon
gambling down
in terrific storms which broke down
the pensacola kid
at the Paradise gardens
with the first three notes of Dead Man Blues
and The Pearls
yes he left mamanita, yes he left
yes he let his beard grow
spat blood in the broom closet
yes he let his beard grow
there were many diamonds
she left many diamonds
cash on cadillac cars
duke ellington
had swing bands
basie and calloway
had a cluster of tricks
which in fact were as spikes at kingpin sessions
and in the exact rooms of the kidworth hotel
where days passed like clinic cards
Morton left the sepia spot and took his body to the jungle inn
on 126 North West
Red Peppers and the attack of alibi, restless priests
listening to Pops Mabel
at the church of intercourse
Jelly you rascal
you minstrel
you lover
you bone meat of the creole caribbean
- vicious semen, Jelly
bake ‘em brown and break a banjo across their backs
jelly you blues talker
1930
the worried blues and the voodoo of your laughter
stepping lean in stove pipes
with the prestige of your father
to the very end.
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