in honor of Cafe Nema, a DC wellspring of jazz that
unfortunately closed this past october.
jazz
should always rise
from the belly
and spill overflow almost
full of steam and spice
walk in the door
and it washes over you
so that you become one with the street
literally
sink your teeth into piano strides
and let your tongue nibble
on saxophone solos so good
you swear they've not only raised
those long gone
but they've decided to sit in between
amen corner meetings
jazz
should always rise from the belly
and sitting here
in candlelight embraced by brick
and brown skins and smiles
you realize that this place
makes it a beautiful stew for you.
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