Jimmie Ware’s most recent poem to appear here was “Grandma’s Prayers” (November 2016)

The Gospel Truth of Jazz
By Jimmie Ware

My hallelujahs are genuine
Like cornbread from scratch
No recipe needed
When my soul needs to be fed
Jazz feeds it
Surely my spirit was in Harlem
When zoot suits were all the rage
I sat in parlors with my shiny sophisticated French roll
Perhaps an enchanted gaze
Reciting words penned by Langston
Coltrane serenaded my mental
‘Round midnight as we gather at his soul-soothing alter
Zora always strolls in late looking lovely lips painted for poetry
In this place hatred does not exist
We are above this as we worship the musical truth
Racism is for another day, not in this place
The Renaissance lives on like classic song
Sax trumpets and unity filled the air
Feet will tap and facial expressions will be legible
Speak easy, love deeply, smile sweetly
We are bound by the melodic beat
In this place we live life on the one’s and two’s
Tip your waitress, escape your blues