Monday, September 21, 2009

1 Poem by Charles Brooks III


Bird and Dizzy bound out of the doghouse

like fuming dialogue between enemies.

Flaring from a short-lived brotherhood,

captains of beatnik, Bird didn’t fly.

Outcasts, cotton became concerts

where white people sat in the back

looking over noble, black heads.

Genuine men made hurricanes sing.

Latin America, Cuban licks succeeded in

thickening a viscous music that keeps

euphony thrust upward, never lonely,

accepted on its own in blown cheeks and bent brass.

No comments:

Post a Comment