Invisible Music
The art of playing “what’s not there”
it is who I am – a protean Piscean dreamer
by night & day blessed with the inventions
& dimensions of unconventional wit
& spontaneity transmitting live from the right
brain which in no way explains my love
for numbers – to get intoxicated
on pure imagination & the electric music
of the muses as though I were the Charlie
Parker of poetry, an ad liberated
auralchemystic wordwright flying high
on a Mileslike solo that always plays
“what’s not there,” with sun-drenched
soul (& sensuality) that makes me wanna sing
Like Billie, Ella, Aretha & Whitney, without
riding that wretched horse or beaming me up to Scotty.
it is who i am – afrofuturistic like Sun Ra
& his Myth Science Arkestra or the
Mothership Connection representing citizens
of the universe, or avant guardian
like the eighty-eight fine-tuned drums that
explode from Cecil Taylor’s fingers – to linger
in alter echoes enclaved in the labyrinth
life of my (mutably unmuted) self framed
in a motley montage of invisible music…
