In the nightclub

In the nightclub across the road
on a cool Saturday evening
a jazz band swings along,
the bassist and drummer locked
tightly in a groove that feels like
it could go all night.

The sax player wails and
trades solos with the guy
plunking the keyboards, and
it reminds me of Kerouac’s
tales of travelling from town
to town and listening to jazz.
What a time that must have been!

I admit that I have no real liking
or understanding of the genre
but I do appreciate the craft
of putting it all together and
getting on stage and making
the punters nod and tap and sway.

I don’t recognise the piece
they’re playing but they receive
good applause before launching
in to Caravan.
Now this I do know.

These guys are good,
but it’s the bass
and the drums
that hold it
and drive it
and make it sex
for the ears.

Fuck me, baby. Fuck me.

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