I'm Ready to Go

The jazz is okay.  It's a little bit manic,
A little too much like the sidewalks
Below us which pulsate with uncounted
Ant-like pedestrians.  Shopping was fun,
But it's wearied me, Chloe.  Am I just too
Old or has life in the country done something
To hobble my once-limber legs?  When I
Gaze out your window, I look past
The towers around us.  I stare at the hills
Far away.  Could you turn off that jazz,
And put on some kora to carry me into
The desert to sleep?

Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
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Written on 2022-12-07 at 23:34

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Griffonner The PoetBay support member heart!
I've got to say arquious' jolted me awake. I may not be well at the moment but I'm certainly not intending to draw my last breath! I feel there's jazz and there's jazz, and I'm not too keen of the 'manic' stuff either. :) There's probably a time and place for it all, but give me a bit of The Pearl Fishers duet at any time!
Look what you have done, Lawrence! Not only entertained with your moments with Chloe poem, but started a jazz discussion? :)

arquious The PoetBay support member heart!
Have heard that quip about jazz several times this year alone. It might be a harbinger of a generation that we live in that the baton is being passed on as we breathe our final breaths as a generation.