Thursday 7 June 2012

Poem by the Belgian writer
Andy Fierens

music exists
in many forms
some are cocky
some conformist –
bloody boring some
at best. one type gets
my goat though more than
all the rest: jazz

jazz comes from
America, that’s why
Al Quaida gets my vote
not that i’m proud
of that please note but
they should really
have thought twice
before inventing
all that tripe:

a thousand notes per
minute whistle round
your ears, so you
can never really say
exactly what you hear

evergreens aren’t all
that great, though they’ve
their merits too:
they rock you off to sleep
that’s through and through what
jazz won’t do; it gives you
headaches and an
overdose of wailing horn
and that’s still is to get
off lightly for
according to sources
that don’t lie
pubs can be found
where jazz fanatics
herd together,
constantly yell ‘yeah!’
and mumble
non-existent rhythms

to dig jazz - you’ve
got to be dumb or
nuts for that. i’ll
plump for dumb for
there are nutters
by the score and then
the world would long ago
have been a jazz shebang
and that’s for sure
God save us all!
should he exist - which
could be on the cards
but if so jazz has
surely chased him off
to Mars

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