It’s Day 644 of the daily poems, and our poet Simon Haines has been wondering about Janet – to whom we were introduced yesterday by Walter Paul Kennedy. But are Simon’s conjectures at all near the mark? It could be, as the saying goes, that suppositions are idle …
Janet and the jazzman
I saw them chatting in the street
Janet and the jazzman.
I didn’t hear a word they said
and I couldn’t read their lips.
If Janet’s a fan of modern jazz
what would be her taste?
Miles Davis or Sonny Rollins,
Ornette Coleman or Django Bates?
Was the jazzman trying to persuade her
to see one of the bands he’s in?
They play in seedy pubs and clubs
always swamped by loyal fans.
Or was he chatting Janet up
thinking of a cool smooth date?
They look to be a similar age
but the sex might have to wait.
Next time I saw Janet in the street
I couldn’t help enquiring
the subject of the conversation
between her and the local jazzman.
“I was asking what he’d recommend
as a starter saxophone
for my pretty jazz-mad daughter.
Next week she’ll be ten.”
Simon Haines
version of a poem in Simon’s collection Quietly Quaking,
published by Rosewood Press, 2024.