Boomer's, <br />The Vanguard, <br />The Five Spot <br />die dark <br />like a last growing spark. <br />New York City's <br />death rattle is jazz. <br /> <br />My heart tears <br />like crepe paper streamers <br />listening to musicians <br />once this country's dreamers <br />becoming disbelievers <br />in their talent <br />'cause their country <br />has disowned them. <br /> <br />Sun rises on the clubs <br />lying littered and lonely. <br />Jazz filters out <br />with the sad men <br />only to return <br />like the tide every night. <br />America. <br />America! <br />Your music's not White.<br /><br />Vi Ransel<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/st-valentine-s-day-massacre-for-jazz-1976/
