By Ian Copestick

 

Usually jazz isn’t really my cup of tea
But tonight as I sit here alone, headphones on
Smoking cigarette after cigarette
It perfectly sums up just how I’m feeling
The lonesome horn, improvising
Improving. Making new melodies
Out of old. As the bass strings hum
And thrum, the brushes lightly hitting
The snare skin. The piano chords
Punctuate and commentate on what
The trumpet’s playing. It sounds like
The loneliest music ever, but it also
Gives succour. These beat jazzmen
Have been as low as you are, and this
Is what they brought back. The most
Beautiful sounds my ears can imagine.
As the saxophone takes over from the
Trumpet and the drummer drives
The beat harder now, the bass throbs
As the trumpet sobs.
This is the sound of midnight
All over the world, forever.

3 thoughts on ““Midnight Jazz”

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