Like I’m young
traveling across great stretches of linoleum tile
pushing a twelve pack with my feet
there’s a soundtrack
sound of methodical chewing
or the HVAC
and a wrist watch

on a monitor
at the hardware store
the time is rotating
in extruded Arial

there’s a sweeping gesture

 that pulls us
towards the next part:

Sonny moved to Chicago for a few years to remove himself from the surrounding elements of negativity around the Jazz scene. He reemerged at the end of 1955 as a member of the Clifford Brown-Max Roach Quintet, with an even more authoritative presence. His trademarks became a caustic, often humorous style of melodic invention, a command of everything from the most arcane ballads to calypsos, and an overriding logic in his playing that found him hailed for models of thematic improvisation.

In 1956, Sonny began recording the first of a series of landmark recordings issued under his own name: Valse Hot introduced the practice, now common, of playing bop in 3/4 meter; St. Thomas initiated his explorations of calypso patterns; and Blue 7 was hailed by Gunther Schuller as demonstrating a new manner of “thematic improvisation,” in which the soloist develops motifs extracted from his theme. Way Out West (1957), Rollins’s first album using a trio of saxophone, double bass, and drums, offered a solution to his longstanding difficulties with incompatible pianists, and exemplified his witty ability to improvise on hackneyed material (Wagon Wheels, I’m an Old Cowhand).



You went another place
then something happens to you
in Vienna

while I’m at the laundromat

You who aren’t
this right now
but 8 years ago
you in vienna probably
and little twin brothers
sweeter of the two
with a cleft lip

Percent of people who forget their own birthdays from time to time 7

outside the sky feels like a room
a low grey ceiling
under which
we’re walking
through long grasses
absently crocheting the grass

pampas grass
like around the airport
around the outlets

in Chicago
The hill, a park on top of landfill
laying there hidden
and dampened sound
a city block obscure
through sheet of grasses
below that
not quite outside
not like a room
a rack of clothes
hidden at the center
pressed in
by smell of sweatshirts
over there
the picnicking family



in california
Someone’s playing St Thomas
on the street
but I have to check to be sure

Like i’m standing in the rain.
Is it raining on me now?