REXROTH'S RULE
(1905- 1982)

Daddy of beats
hiding us in peace

brother,blowing horns
from your gravestone

yet signalling in a baton
the jazz thing

over a New York minute
of expectant crystal eyes

out of reassembled
floating sky words

by the kitchen closet
when quarter notes

got you more than a coffee
hot bagel and cream cheese

nothing in uniform
cannot communicate

the void for no masters
in your anarchic state

away from the animal skins
of Hegel, Engels, Marx

in the materialism of papers
relocated in Berlin

found after Archangel's
blood of snows

is cleaned up by the broom
sticks of history's paradoxes

and you, K. Rexroth
all our bound to hear you

at the Blackhawk
your music in each moment

and movement
for freedom.