let’s get straight to the point
whenever love walks in
the scene changes.
jazz twinkles and rumbles on the speakers.
finger snaps begin in the back quadrant of the room.
The walls grow gilded
and the trees remember how to dance
we forget that jazz is improvised, like life, when we are hearing it secondhand.
do you know if your fish has been frozen?
are you living your life secondhand?
The electric organ holds the answers
Percussive, subtly but assertively, it won’t let us forget
that when we cannot touch hearts,
we lock eyes.