Jazz Poem by Smoky Hoss

Far flung flights of fancy
on wings and things
in songs with gongs
of lavendar lollypop licks
and purple popsicle sticks -
the merrits of men
with minds like mice
crude cadences
secluded smoke
and organs of ice -
the feminine fallaciousness
with curves and nerves
stares and glares
mountains of madness
and sensuous blurbs -
caution signs
yellowed with the times
riven with redolent reds
and garrulous greens
and all those fractured frictions of the mind -
the vanquished have vanished
leaving leperous lizards
with chicken gizzards
at the waning wake
of a once sensuous snake -
a fusion of lost loves
and dreams of the dead
simple psychodelic sensations
meant to humble the heart
and hypnotize the dead -
in the last long song
the room goes gray in gravity
you see me
I see thee, and
through it all, like jazz, we still combine perfectly -