Jazz the Glass//Hands the Distance

our photophobia:
evidence glows dark
with amber neon bellies-
up to tune furies
so sense-compelling
negro-lust our graves
and scat to-do

here

in New Orleans' cellar dank
we make dying embryo lights
do jazz wail
with impending night

then fear


it blue
swivel-flickers...
so blue

makes us
want to reach out
nurse Dizzy.