A departure from the the parade of "dead white men" who have featured in my poetry season. Jayne Cortez is a living black woman, so that's all the PC boxes ticked in one fell swoop, and back to the comfort zone. Just kidding, honest!
I love Jazz, I love its history, it's characters. I tolerate its shits (e.g., Miles D.) on account of their talent. But I'm no jazz buff. Sometimes I'm listening to some old recording with a mate of mine, and he comes out with something really arcane. He can tell you every individual in the Basie line-up that day, who was off with a cold, and who went out for the sandwiches. Me, I just listen to the music.
All these names have some significance, for me and for others. It's good to see them all name-checked. There's that film "A Great Day in Harlem", similar thing, people who are fans listing the people they admire. As Dave Frishberg says in his piss-taking song, "I don't blow but I'm a fan".

A JAZZ FAN LOOKS BACK

I crisscrossed with Monk
Wailed with Bud
Counted every star with Stitt
Sang "Don't Blame Me" with Sarah
Wore a flower like Billie
Screamed in the range of Dinah
& scatted "How High the Moon" with Ella Fitzgerald
as she blew roof off the Shrine Auditorium
Jazz at the Philharmonic

I cut my hair into a permanent tam
Made my feet rebellious metronomes
Embedded record needles in paint on paper
Talked bopology talk
Laughed in high-pitched saxophone phrases
Became keeper of every Bird riff
every Lester lick
as Hawk melodicized my ear of infatuated tongues
& Blakey drummed militant messages in
soul of my applauding teeth
& Ray hit bass notes to the last love seat in my bones
I moved in triple time with Max
Grooved high with Diz
Perdidoed with Pettiford
Flew home with Hamp
Shuffled in Dexter's Deck
Squatty-rooed with Peterson
Dreamed a "52nd Street Theme" with Fats
& scatted "Lady Be Good" with Ella Fitzgerald
as she blew roof off the Shrine Auditorium
Jazz at the Philharmonic

Look, no punctuation. That's avant-garde for sure.
I don't know the ins and outs of this "intellectual property" rip-off, which is why I prefer to stick with the deceased. I'd love to put some of Ian Duhig's and Sean O'Brien's poems up here, but I'm a bit wary. Never mind there's a rake of others to quote.