Fifty-second Street

[Torkelburger]

Fifty-second Street

I wonder if Swing Street even recalls
bebop surging out of the Famous Door
from Parker’s axe and Monk’s dulcet upright
while Tatum, Holiday, Dizzy played the Onyx—
street life, jazz clubs, forties New York,
and disc jockey Sid airing live programs:
W.C. Handey’s Place can only be envious.

[rowens]

There's no reason to critique poetry for fun.
I like giving critique as much as Gregory House likes clinic duty.

When I got to the street life, I felt something nice. I live in the rural nowhere, and spooks are teetotalling between every bush and stone. And I can sense the spirited atmosphere in and of the streets, if I was there, in that city, in the '40s. The realm of that scene. The music and the style and the issues and the dreamtime phantasy those carefree out of history bubbles time travellers find themselves in. The profound caricatures. And the seriousness I like.

I like openness, even compacted and crowded and buildings and hard cars openness. So those two words put me there. Wandering the streets with all that around.