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