Jazz Poems

CREPUSCULE WITH NELLIE

For Ira

Monk at the Five Spot

late one night.

Ruby my Dear, Epistrophy.

The place nearly empty

Because of the cold spell.

One beautiful black transvestite

alone up front,

Sipping his drink demurely.

The music Pythagorean,

one note at a time

Connecting the heavenly spheres,

While I leaned against the bar

surveying the premises

Through cigarette smoke.

All of a sudden, a clear sense

of a memorable occasion…

The joy of it, the delicious melancholy…

This very strange manbent over the piano

shaking his head, humming…

Misterioso.

Then it was all over, thank you!

Chairs being stacked up on tables,

their legs up.

The prospect of the freeze outside,

the long walk home,

Making one procrastinatory.

Who said Americans don’t have history,

only endless nostalgia?

And where the hell was Nellie?

CHARLES (DUŠAN) SIMIĆ

from Jazz Poems ~ Selected and Edited by Kevin Young

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