And now we circle the sidewalks of this suitcase town / We have found some comfort here / We are experts / We are experts of the past / Coffee is cold like evening air / And still we sit like watchmen / Sweet morning lady / Sweet, sweet is so necessary / I just […]

He dreamed he played the notes so slowly that they hovered in the air above the crowd and shimmered like a neon sign (Oded Tzur, poem by Dana Gioia)

Thick bass notes from a moon faced drum / Saxophones moan, banjo strings hum / High thin notes from the cornet’s throat / Trombone snorting, bass horn snorting / Short tan notes from the piano / And the short tan notes from the piano (Conny Bauer, poem by Frank Marshall Davies)