1. |
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… staring at the final wall where in Africa the old men petered out on their own account using their own immemorial Salvation Mind …
Mexico City Bop
I got the huck bop
I got the floogle mock
I got the thiri chiribim
bitchy bitchy bitchy
batch batch
Chipperly bop
Noise like that
Like fallin off porches
Of Tenement Petersberg
Russia Chicago O Yay.
Like, when you see,
the trumpet kind, horn
shiny in his hand, raise
it in smoke among heads
he bespeaks, elucidates,
explains and drops out,
end of chorus,
SLIPPITY BOP
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2. |
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Little weird flower,
why did you grow?
Who planted you
on this god damn hill?
Who asked you to grow?
Why dont you go?
What's wrong with yr orange tips?
I was under the impression
that you were supposed to be
some kind of perfect nature.
Oh, you are?
Just a jiggle in the wind, I see.
At yr feet I see a nose gay
boukay
Of seven little purple apes
who dint grow so high
And a sister of yours
further down the precipice
and your whole family
to the left
I thot last week
you were funeral bouquets
for me
that never askt
to be born
or die
but now I guess
I'm just talkin'
thru my
empty head
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3. |
Poem
02:17
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Old hornet me
Would woo thee
Fair, soft Sarah
Of the Flowers;
But bee's not kind
That seeks to find,
Peers too deep
Shares no sleep;
And anyway,
Who woos bees?
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4. |
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Listening to a guy play
tenor saxophone &
keep the tune inside
chords & structures,
as sweetly as this,
you'll experience
the same fitly thrill
you got from Mozart
It is pure musical beauty,
like a musicale
among wigs
People who dont understand
jazz are tone deaf
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5. |
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Ah yair, and when
I gets to Third and
Townsend,
I'll ketch me
the Midnight Ghost
We'll roll right down
to San Jose
As quickly as you can boast
Ah ha, Midnight,
midnight ghost,
Ole Zipper rollin
down the line
Ah ha Midnight,
midnight ghost,
Rollin
down the line
We'll come a blazing
To Watsonville,
And whang on through
the line
Salinas Valley
in the night,
On down to Apaline
Whoo Whoo
Whooee
Midnight ghost
Clear t'Osbispo Bump
Take on a helper
and make that mountain
and come on down the town
We'll rail on through
to Surf and Tangair
and on down by the Sea
The moon she shines
the mid-night ocean
go-in down the line
Gavioty. Gavioty,
O Gavioty,
Singin and drinkin wine
Camarilla, Camarilla,
Where Charlie Parker
went mad
We'll roll on to L. A.
O Mid-night,
midnight,
midnight ghost,
rollin down the line,
Sainte Teresa
Sainte Teresa, don't you worry,
We'll make it on time,
down that mid-night
line
And that's how I figure I'll make San Francisco in 12 hours,
ridin the Midnight Ghost,
under a lashed truck,
the First class Zipper freight train,
zooam, zom, right down,
sleeping bag and wine,
a daydream in the form of a song.
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Thomas Oboe Lee Cambridge, Massachusetts
Thomas Oboe Lee was born in China in 1945. He lived in São Paulo, Brazil, for six years before coming to the United States in 1966. After graduating from the University of Pittsburgh, he studied composition at the New England Conservatory and Harvard University. He has been a member of the music faculty at Boston College since 1990. ... more
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