Ken Trimble # 19 El negro

In the skin of Thelonious
I felt compelled to move
along with sounds
my body shifting like the wind
pshh wah shh wah shh
swaying like a palm tree
in Cuba el negro grooves
in the Havana heat
my hat on my head
a temporary arrangement
to the tilted axis
of the world
as it was about to go
boom!
I heard only the band
in its piano parts
no sax filtered into my
brain
for I was gone
real gone.