daddy’s special ride

thanks Jess for asking

  “I gotta get on this jazz and blues thing.” 

1. 

that ancestral submarine 
jazz can i ride it? dive  
atlantic deep wake 
my vessel tir
 
up music-quaking bones. 
truly understand 

commit  drown
squeeze myself 
through half notes?  reborn

inside a father’s passion
like i have have been 
only once  before

  i could name vowels;
  sound out Canis Major’s
  children on fingers; link
  my solitary pointer
  tip to Polaris
  then contract eighty times
  to the end of beckoning
  vulva humming here here here.

hear the squiggle-lurch of myself
fast forwarded to a present.   basking 
in my son.  father  drunk on whole notes.
all of us together.  Dizzy loud 
 bouncing this newly born rider 
  barely able to walk
   dancing. his undefined self
  timeless in time

to the music.  laughter. crashing 
palms electric flesh   joined.
salt splattered  genetic euphoria

an aqua silver plasma line 
knitted by invisible arthritic hands
to cover these loving harmonies

right now.
i’m  on this jazz thing   warm. 
pure.   clean    family heat
geysering that dead cold ocean.
bones moving in unison.  is that jazz?