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Array ( [sid] => 52989 [catid] => 1 [aid] => mick [title] => Death of Jazz Ode to Tuba Fats [time] => 2004-06-21 11:42:22 [hometext] => I hate the fact that it's centered like that. That needs to be altered or the mods should allow people to change it... or something because it's horrible. Anyway this is a jazz funeral in New Orleans. [bodytext] => Miles and miles
of obsidian black,
canary yellow
flamingo pink,
and violet.

Of jade green,
pearly white,
sea blue,
and saxaphone gold.

Men and women
parading through the streets
for an old tuba player
named Fats who
bought food for the homeless
even though he
was starving himself.

A man
with legs of jello
dances around a woman
with hair of dried corn-husk gold.
His leg flies up
and over her head. She stands
shocked
and awed as I do

Watching from the restaurant
sipping my pina colada
two friends to my left
and one to my right,
my father in a corner
of the balcony
waving a white handkerchief
mortifying me as always

"When a jazz player dies."
Dad speaks, his voice low,
almost reverent. "The others come
to both celebrate and morn
the life of such fine art. Through
the streets of old New Orleans.
Dancing to the tune
of a life well-played."
[comments] => 2 [counter] => 512 [topic] => 55 [informant] => Kusko [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => dedicatedpoems )
Death of Jazz Ode to Tuba Fats

Contributed by Kusko on Monday, 21st June 2004 @ 11:42:22 AM in AEST
Topic: dedicatedpoems



Miles and miles
of obsidian black,
canary yellow
flamingo pink,
and violet.

Of jade green,
pearly white,
sea blue,
and saxaphone gold.

Men and women
parading through the streets
for an old tuba player
named Fats who
bought food for the homeless
even though he
was starving himself.

A man
with legs of jello
dances around a woman
with hair of dried corn-husk gold.
His leg flies up
and over her head. She stands
shocked
and awed as I do

Watching from the restaurant
sipping my pina colada
two friends to my left
and one to my right,
my father in a corner
of the balcony
waving a white handkerchief
mortifying me as always

"When a jazz player dies."
Dad speaks, his voice low,
almost reverent. "The others come
to both celebrate and morn
the life of such fine art. Through
the streets of old New Orleans.
Dancing to the tune
of a life well-played."




Copyright © Kusko ... [ 2004-06-21 11:42:22]
(Date/Time posted on site)





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Re: Death of Jazz Ode to Tuba Fats (User Rating: 1 )
by pixie on Monday, 21st June 2004 @ 11:43:27 AM AEST
(User Info | Send a Message)
this is different, i really liked it, welcome to YPDC

Pixie xx


Re: Death of Jazz Ode to Tuba Fats (User Rating: 1 )
by Former_Member on Monday, 21st June 2004 @ 01:31:42 PM AEST
(User Info | Send a Message)
great vivid imagery - I enjoyed this -
looking forward to seeing more




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