Ninth Ward Jazz

Smashed Colt 40’s glitter the path
of the Big Easy funeral parade-

Two men twist & break
a crepe myrtle branch

Tiny hot pink flowers shower down
& STOP signs shiver, whammed with the wood-

A trombone high note
when the hexagon goes skidding to asphalt

Women in hot pants second-line
under torn umbrellas while trumpet

& walking bass wail
& the dead boy’s picture is hoisted on poles

trailing long yellow ribbons
Suck a fabulous bitter nectar out of the street.

A hidden moon carved with a sharp stylus rocks out the sky;
collard green seeds taste like batteries

Bullets breed & clack, brass larvae. Dance, dance
while the music rolls-mother in two countries

Wake the next morning
& bury an egg at the foot of the garden