Poem: Miles Davis in Paris

A fat junky sun flipping
Through the leaves on Italian Boulevard

A diamond over the jungle
In a total sky.

Babies didn’t like it –
The noiseless screaming

Scientists ran to hide
And shoplifters paused in the sunlight

As the train steamed on
Through the plane trees

Businessmen concocted excuses
Clerks lay down on the sidewalks

Birds didn’t stay around
To hear

Nothing that has roots
Can stand it

Computers are withered
In the heat

(I am a songbird –
The drums cannot hurt me !)