so much more…

at ease listening to Kind of Blue…

begin 49…

like Miller…Mailer…Mamet…Miles is now more…

so much more…

’bout art…life…women…differences in knowing…and truly knowing…

these notes cling…

so much more…

nothing tight…no-longer looking to scrap… fuck…fidgeting fell wayside…simply flow…so what…so what…

to be at peace…cry during a song…holding a lover’s hand over her head in bed asleep…yet gripping worn fingers of mine…this i’ve longed for….

that…is Kind of Blue….

god damn that kid from East St. Lou….how dare he blow so sweet….

you move me motherfucker…

these melodic friends of yours…Billy…Philly…Coltrane…Cannonball….oh….fuck me…

how thankful…what peace…

Flamenco sketches…

i see them…i see them…

at ease listening to Kind of Blue…

begin 49…

like Miller…Mailer…Mamet…Miles is now more…

so much more…

 

 

Published by: dmseay

The writing is based on my surroundings and what I've been surrounded by. This language is coarse and politically incorrect; which I make no apologies for. These characters are not nice and to use any other dialogue would be disingenuine. That being said, I choose to roll the dice. dm seay

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