Jazz
The funny thing about jazz
Is it never resolves
Cords of dissonance disillusioned in thick cigarette smoke
Swirl into the music world
And people applaude
They like it
Calling it classical,
modern,
smooth
Well
You are a lot like jazz
You never resolve.
End.
or give me closure.
Yet the audience applauds away
The crumbs
From the complements
You have been fed
Are still on the corner of your mouth
Well this is too tall for me to think it over
Even if I knew my place in your tip-toeing notes
Along the scales
You could never hope to measure up to
So that is how you will remain
In my musical repertoire
That classical, Modern, smooth,
Jazz