BY MARK JACKLEY
Copyright is held by the author.
Nearing 60
Soft light in the trailer.
Each unrepeatable breath.
Sun barely risen,
already he is lost
in his thoughts, no one
else on the line.
Mother is gone, and Father.
He believes there is a line.
Bruce Fowler’s Trombone Solo
in the Movie Short Cuts
makes me think of dolphins
leaping in a world
without tuna nets. Make it swing, Fowler knew,
never mind the drunks,
the jerks, the bloated corpse
floating about the film. He’d played with Woody Herman,
Frank Zappa and the Mothers,
so closed his eyes and blew. Salt water, liberation
warmly ripple through.
