shit happens
i see the jazzman
at the corner of 4th avenue
he’s doing a strange dance
slamming his boot into a puddle of water
then doing this kind of
bird walk back and forth
he’s wearing his postman’s outfit
so he’s probably not drunk yet
when i cross the street
the jazzman looks at me
without a trace of remembrance and says
man, i stepped in shit
i think how
i haven’t seen him since
they closed the bar down
and sent all of us flies searching
for another pile of shit
well
….at least the jazzman found his.
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