An Evil Word It Is/ This Love.

The Further Jazz Moves Away From The Stark Blue Continuum And The Collective Realities Of Afro-american And American Life, The More It Moves Into Academic Concert-hall Lifelessness, Which Can Be Replicated By Any Middle Class Showing Off Its Music Lessons.

& Love Is An Evil Word. Turn It Backwards/see, See What I Mean? An Evol Word.

Words Have Users, But As Well, Users Have Words. And It Is The Users That Establish The World's Realities.

And Now Each Night, I Count The Stars. And Each Night I Get The Same Number. And When The Stars Won't Come To Be Counted, I Count The Holes They Leave.

Warriors Are Poets And Poems And All The Loveliness Here In The Worlds.