ode to miles davis he loved him madly
these mornings pass in poses
thirty seconds at a time
pacing breath on a snare hit
try to unwind 47 years
of what capitalism wrought
organ rising winds
into construction crews
milling pavement
house shakes
it's open windows
accept what little chatter
comes from the sparrow wall
accept the lost voice of a working man
another day in paradise
the cat steals heating pad
tries to unwind 90 years
now listen as the guitar
razors a riff only
to pull back on the wah
meeting a trumpets mute
reverb drenched flute settles
I count off seconds
this drifting composition
this expansion of language
building off ideas
colliding with restraint
the way duke ellington taught us
duke knew he'd never see
christmas in 1974
he sent holiday cards
right before memorial day
to jazz luminaries, to friends
a last chance to sat goodbye
a last chance to give thanks
miles cried
when his card arrived
it closed the way duke
ended all of his shows
with a kiss blown from the stage
and the words
love you madly
About the Author: Jason Baldinger is a poet and photographer from Pittsburgh, PA. He is the co-editor of Trailer Park Quarterly and co-runs The Odd-Month Reading Series. He’s penned fifteen books of poetry the newest of which include, A History of Backroads Misplaced: Selected Poems 2010-2020 (Kung Fu Treachery), and American Aorta (OAC Books). His first book of photography, Lazarus (OAC Books), was just released. He has two ekphrastic collaborations (with poets Rebecca Schumejda and Robert Dean) and a fourth collaboration with Kansas City Poet James Benger forthcoming. His work has appeared across a wide variety of online sites and print journals. You can hear him read from various books on Bandcamp and on lps by The Gotobeds and Theremonster.
Image Credit: “Portrait of Miles Davis, Three Deuces, New York, N.Y.” (1947) Public domain image courtesy of Wikimedia Commons.
As It Ought To Be 
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