Arlene Corwin Poetry

Jazz Musician Always

It isn’t that I like to cook,

But looking

In the fridge and knowing that

We have to eat,

The jazz musician in me

Beats away, theme there,

Means there already

(pots, pans, stove and lots of food,

for which I thank the Lord,

the means luxurious indeed)

And some creative series

In some wordless way

Says “Hmmm” which  ‘hmmm’ computerized,

In ones and zeros in the brain

Connects away, combining several

Million links – all for the good

Of those I feed,

And lo, out comes the food – a meal.

This is a miracle –

Like playing jazz.

Jazz Musician Always 10.13.2012

The Processes: Creative, Thinking, Meditative II; Vaguely About Music II;

Arlene Corwin