Mr. Africa Poetry Lounge!

Lookingback, Jazzstained Jayne


Circa sixty-nine: after poetin out a
November ice/mare (with Robert Hayden, Ishmael Reed
& Stanley Crouch) at Buffalo's Inter-American
Writers Congress, Quincy Troupe & I, like
gung-ho GI's, climbed her jazz-stained stairs
where eyes/ears met an edible montage
above Big Apple's Avenue of the Americas . . .


Ornate in its oblique nest, like Ornette's
lofty funk/scapes, Jayne's 4th floor walk-
up earth-whiled into archive, studio, sanctum,
repast, poem: sister-threads winding festivals &
funerals through joyful/elegiac mazes: exiting thru
penises & pearl tongues of artful exults,
in magic/reel yawps of yari yari . . .


Now, Jayne's axe-bright tomes, flashin &
spittin torrent thru turrets of her fecund
decades, grieve & sculpt a pell mel/l,
you know, of AIDS, female spill/age,
drug gorge/s, walking-dead peeps, impish pimples
on a carcass dressed up in money . . .

Written by Eugene B. Redmond

<----> SEND THIS POEM TO A FRIEND! <---->

Mr. Africa Poetry Lounge