Poem: Jazz on my Headphones

Eight hours or more of jazz, jazz, jazz

Loaded onto the tiny black and silver box

My whole day awaiting me as I venture out

With the soundtrack in my ears

I look up from my handlebars as I ride

And suddenly realize

That everything is poetry…

The violet chorus of a million birds, singing

The long grey skyline looming before me

The shiny glass and metal of the passing cars

The cracks in the pavement as I pass along

The long, thin-hipped girls walking by in summer clothes

With their large sunglasses and flowing hair

The winking street signals that beckon from the distance

The tree-lined streets and quiet neighbourhoods

The ancient houses that stand guard as I pass

The ink on my fingers and hands as I print

The ink on my gloves as I pull skin taut

The laughter of my friends in casual conversation

The sweat on the can of cola as it drips down its sides

The smoke as it rises from the glowing end of my cigarette

The gentle breeze as it passes through leaves and branches

The smell of Great Lake Ontario as it wafts through the town

Even my cats that now gently purr and prance at my feet

They have all become poetry to my ears and eyes

And the music keeps swirling around it all

In my ears

In my headphones

In my soul

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