Blunder Jazz

Portrait of a Rabid Filmmaker


The slim man standing at the corner of Tate and Interstate Lane,
his single-lens reflex, with iris diaphragm wide open, sucks in all colors.
The sounds… slim man sucks them up too, stiff arm sweeping the air
with a cardioid microphone wrapped in old hospital gauze;
blunder jazz is born of blood memories. And raw jasper embedded in veins.
Jasper is the slim man when he’s at home, under your skin. In brains.

K. Shawn Edgar | Fun with Fossils | Background Radiation Enabled | Sine Wave

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