LET ME SLEEP ALL NIGHT IN YOUR SOUL KITCHEN

Well the clock says it's time to close now I know I have to go now ​... Jean Marais, Le Testament d'Orphée, Jean Cocteau Well, your fingers weave quick minarets Speak in secret alphabets...  - excerpts from The Doors, "Soul Kitchen"

STOLE A CAR IN DENVER JUST TO HEAR IT SQUEAL

Neal Cassady & Charles Plymell, 1963 SONG FOR NEAL CASSADY, BY CHARLES PLYMELL –For John CassadyOh really really Nealhis first love was the automobile Drove a ‘34 Ford with suicide doorsand stick shift on the floorDraggin’ down main to Colfax Avenue Jumpin’ in the back seat boulevardkicked back watching asses in the rearviewcruising past the …

RIVULETS OF TRICKLING ECSTASY FROM THE ALABASTER POOLS OF JAZZ

Ted Croner Music from her breast, vibratingSoundseared into burnished velvet.Silent hips deceiving fools.Rivulets of trickling ecstacyFrom the alabaster pools of JazzWhere music cools hot souls.Eyes more articulately silentThan Medusa's thousand tongues.A bridge of eyes, consenting smilesreveal her presence singingOf cool remembrance, happy ballsWrapped in swingingJazzHer music...Jazz. Poem: "jazz chick" by BOB KAUFMAN