Heres a cone
The piano keys go up it one by one
in a spiral like Mount Purgatory,
the white ones Dante and the black ones Virgil.
Which turns to the
cube of a root
thats hard to get a grand
piano into, though if anyone can
These tunes sing on a Model T upright.
In time, torsus becomes
for a turn from the norm,
for a nonplatonic bagel,
a derailed halo.
This shape has thirty-two
and its bars are angled together,
inside or outside,
providing the evidence.
This little finger
and this little finger stayed home
and these two thumbs rode with Charlie Christian
and I wish Bud Powell were alive.
Beard of a scholar,
beard of an Ethiopian prince.
Over airmans shades and invisible smiles,
an astrakhan cap like a furry halo.