Blow

drifting into the Vanguard
in ’61, Trane blows a blue-bottle
fly into my silken ear

a nightmare
pursues me
through the streets
allowing a taxi
to precipitate me
home where I have never been

the blue-bottle fly
tips back its longneck vodka
bottle brown

horse fly
trying to find that fine
fine vein
shoot high then squeal
the tires and the reed
bent all the way to Harlem

 

Jilly’s first half: Trane Blows

For  Casting Bricks Challenge.

11 thoughts on “Blow

  1. Lots of directions, indeed! This is like a tapestry that has been carefully woven with the fly, the drink & drug references so fitting jazz players, and the music itself. I really enjoy the connections and how you go back to the opening line with the locations. You nailed this one, baby! I’m honored.

    Liked by 1 person

        1. Oh goodness. The poem makes no sense at all if you don’t know something about John Coltrane and jazz in New York in the early sixties. You are excused from this one!

          Like

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s