I’m seeing Thelonius Monk

I saw Thelonius Monk at a piano

played amid the straw-strewn arsenal

reminding me that many others felt all

solitude was lacking since a radio

connected them to far off shores by air

marconi set detected by Gestapo

sifting through the ether to their ear.

Vin grenades, a schmeisser-looping lair

Torino looking red bandanna there

with devil care fumar a drooping lip at

a glaring upright pianist moos a femme

imagining his fiction underground, sat

while entertaining Wermacht by his pound

as trussed beneath a naked lightbulb bound

to chaise and chamber pot tips to the sound.

Fraternite is liberte and robes Pierre in doubt

while June fills guns of August with the powder and the shot

yet everyone’s a sinner and there’s only framed in jail

the innocent are guilty because all are in denial

“Show me the man I’ll show the crime!”

Lav rent he’s bare, he, YEAH!

he’ll pay his due and two cuss to

the guards who should be there

but couldn’t care ‘less miss their share

of plungin’ through the hair.

Solo leanness beats, oh, sighed he,

when yule becalms the nights.

Entertainment for home, oh, hear.

Otic visions in the darkness of our sights.

C with a circle around it – J. Risdon

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