When Angles Burp Jazz

By Peter Laugesen

       A free flowing form
   and stream with certain pauses - improvisation - it´s
         what I get from Jazz and Kerouac. Ginsberg
            - the old pig - is dead
and the mainstream poets´ Women´s Weekly hustlers parade wares on the high street. Little
                                        metropol what have I
                    done to you? It´s so
          fuckin boring here so much classics so dead. Come out
                                             to play.
     I´ll listen to Monk and Coltrane one more time. My life´s fallen apart
says Ginsberg. It´s a starting point. Always
     the frustrated rock ´n roller. There he stands on his pinnacle
      with his white stick and the dream dead in his hand. His theatre.
       Himself.
        His sick heart.
         His tired Oh belt up man. Wake up. I say
          come back. Stay. I say don´t move. Walk and talk.
           I say listen. Listen
            to the bird. I´ll never write that novel. I´ll never
             do it. It´s
              what I
               do.

Translated by Anne Born