Jazz

the netherland of jazz
i used to escape there
along with my cigarettes
and scotch
in the dark of my room
around noon
and look at swirls of smoke
in contended drunkenness
no one was there to boggle my mind
it was all perfect
like a house of cards creatively put together
in a fragile state of being
undisturbed
until the slightest wisp of wind
dismembered it all
more than slight
but with piercing shrieks
of the winds called reality
it wasn't a nice place
to be for me.
yeah, I was jazzed.