JAZZ PLAYING

Smooth jazz playing
from now shut mouth organs
at a natural good night
for my last gig
buried over quarter notes
drowning in pockets of sax
bellowing over the townhouse
asked to play at a birthday party
by a warm bombed out menu
warmed by wood stoves
in a November midnight hour
watching a bird through windows
chirping under trembling oaks
in the soft showery rain
the whole length of hours
remembering French onion soup
and vanilla pancakes
on the fire near the floorboards
to watch dancing and propose
a toast that persuades you
that the thirst and hunger
of our menu wheelhouse
is perfectly arranged.