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Poem	in brussels, eye sat in the grand place cafe & heard duke's place, played after salsa between the old majestic architecture, jazz bouncing off all that gilded gold history snoring complacently there flowers all over the ground, up inside the sound the old white band jammin the music tight & heavy, like some food pushin pedal to the metal gettin all the way down under the scaffolding surrounding l'hotel de ville, chattanooga choochoo choo choing all the way home, upside walls, under gold eagles & a gold vaulting girl, naked on a rooftop holding a flag over her head, like skip rope, surrounded by all manner of saints & gold madmen, riding emblazoned stallions snorting like crazed demons at their nostrils the music swirling like a dancing bear a beautiful girl, flowers in her hair the air woven with lilting voices in this grand place of parepets & crowns, jewels & golden torches streaming like a horse's mane, antiquity riding through in a wheel carriage here, through gargoyles & gothic towers rocketing swordfish lanced crosses pointing up at a God threatening rain & it is stunning at this moment when raised beer steins cheer the music on, hot & heavy, still humming & cooking basic african-american rhythms alive here in this ancient grand place of europe this confluence point of nations & cultures jumping off place for beer & cuisines fused with music, poetry & stone here in this blinding, beautiful square sunlit now as the golden eye of God shoots through flowers all over the cobbled ground, up in the music the air brightly cool as light after jeweled rain still, there are these hats slicing foreheads off in the middle of crowds that need explaining, the calligraphy of this penumbra slanting ace-deuce, cocked, carrying the perforated legacy of bebop these bold, peccadillo, pirouetting pellagras razor-sharp clean, they cut into our rip-tiding dreams carrying their whirlpooling imaginations, their rivers of schemes assaulted by pellets of raindrops these broken mirrors catching fragments of sonorous words, entrapping us between parentheses two bat wings curved, imprisoning the world
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