A Poem in the Key of "See"

Because I am a jazz musician, I seek great poets.

Because I am a poet, I seek great jazz musicians.

- The Oracle

Hour time is hear,

Can you feel it in your rhythm section?

The wait of the world

is over.

All rise.

The heir feels lighter the hire we climb.

I pay homage to the Kings and Queens of unemployment

crowned with inherited youth,

Rich in the treasures of ancestry.

Momentarily buoyed by the notion,

of a feeling with no name,

I am free.

I read that last line on a t-shirt.

The cashier aimed a weapon with a red laser and demanded $9.99.

"Have a nice day."

Machine wash cold.

Tumble dry low.

Do not bleach your Aura.

You are my kind of bright.

Children wear the hand-me-down slogans we bought at a discount.

They arrive as time travelers

from the futures

we keep advertising to them.

Would it be poor spiritual form

for a bounty hunter to wear a shirt that says,

"I don't chase. I attract."

?

The universe pays in mysterious wages

If you listen to your eyes

you can find the rhythm.

Swaying and unhidden.

Moving around you.

Bending toward you.

An interplay of color and texture

with a hand reaching out for a dance.

Meaning has no copyright holder.

It is sensation.

Waiting in the space between

your thoughts, memories

and the things that call you by name.

It is what happens

when you reach back.