When people express what is most important to them, it often comes out in clichés. That doesn’t make them laughable; it’s something tender about them. As though in struggling to reach what’s most personal about them they could only come up with what’s most public. ~ Terrence Malick
There’s so much spirit of integration and democracy in jazz. ~ Wynton Marsalis
I am a walking minefield today
so I’m giving you stink eye.
I have thin skin, you’re rubbing
me the wrong way and I bruise easily.
You think you’re dealing with a serenely
wise woman, walking in splendor
with a mindful pace.
But I’m juggling a basketful of babies,
toddlers clinging to my legs and one
hangs upside down by a cruel grip
in my braid. There is not a single
word you can say to soothe me.
Show up good-hearted, good-
natured, deliberately cast
shadows on the sidewalk.
Make me laugh with your folded
fingers, the hopping flop-eared bunny
chased by the one-eyed barking
dog’s head. Bring out your jazz
hands. All of my fragmented
pieces have dared to peek out
so let’s kid around
before they take insult
and burrow back down
into their lonely holes.