Interstellar Intercourse

(Originally written in 1993, and published by Owen Wister Review in Spring, 2000, each section is introduced by a quote.)

In the past, poetry came in the form of spells and chants used to effect change.
John Barton

[1] I was conceived in the Great Song of the Universe.
by reed of tongue
by riff of lung

i was born one

with the panther,
wont to her song.

[2] Time is a substance if you hear    you can get on and ride.
when i’m in communion with the panther,

i am reminded of bird’s Star Eyes,
knowin what he blows is time
(told with steps of off-beat feet),

and anita baker, knowin what she sows
is an Angel in disguise: her voice jus/a/lingerin,
soarin above the sun caught in an orbit 69 with the moon,

(wishin that this primal waltz of aural sex never ends).

[3] Life is a saxophone played by death.
i reminisce over blackdrops of sax
In The Wee Small Hours of the Morning,
listenin to musician after musician

blow Jazzoetry thru the hornucopia of life’s cool blue breaths

aired in death’s scalding scarlet stares
until my ears hurt or my mind falls unalert

to time jus/a/wailin on.

[4] We are all Gods, Priests, Magicians, if any of us are.
i can step into tomorrow without leavin today,
step from tomorrow back into the girth of yesterday.
i can go from there and then to here and now

and be everywhere but where i am somehow.
or i can be what i am, a flesh and blood
man, survivin however

i can.

[5] On the beautiful trail I am, with it I wander.
my footprints wade in the shadows
of the panther’s stark eyes
cast onto me,

into me.

steps in the dark
become strides in the light.
i am a maze jus/a/searchin.

[6] The magic of the singers warms the earth…
immortal are the bards

like me, born of this earth,
like stars, burnin free about this universe,
born to air free about reality.

up jumps sweet psalmody from my tongue
in sync with the universal drum feet
of everchangin time.

it’s jus/in/my/soulness.

[7] Tenor Sax is here to stay.
angry tenor
blow thru my nocturnal heart,
suites of immortality

in seasons with answers
to the enigma of your Afroblue.
critics say you played too long,

but you ain’t played long enough.

[8] And when I die I hope Coltrane is played at my funeral…
when i’ve said my last peace,
blow Trane scream…
cry Trane rain Trane reign.

turn this realm inside out with Body and Soul,
make the panther purr for mo/luv,
so we all can see with eyes of angels…

when i’ve said my last peace.

[9] Music is the world over again.
by reed of tongue
by riff of lung

i was conceived

in the great psalm
of the panther.

Quote Sources:
1. Etheridge Knight
2. Clark Coolidge
3. Bob Kaufman
4. Calvin Forbes
5. Navajo Song
6. Jack Micheline
7. Thelonious Monk
8. Etheridge Knight
9. Schopenauer

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