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Jun 2019
Honey-flowing rivulets of jazz-beaten syncope,
Trumpets blowing smoke across the room,
‘Curveball’ Sammy hustles bass behind the bar,
Snares his songbird in a played back loop.

Harlem shufflers work the floor, breaking safe,
Clave rhythm scufflers with a New York twist,
Black keys write with borrowed brass on iv’ry walls,
Pick the lock on a swelt’ring southern riff.
‘If you have to ask what jazz is, you’ll never know.’
- Louis Armstrong
annh
Written by
annh  F/Christchurch, New Zealand
(F/Christchurch, New Zealand)   
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