Wesley Marley Had the Third Largest Private
Collection of Jazz Recordings in the World and Played
Them on a Huge Stereophonic Sound System
He knew a charismatic peace inside
His mother’s living room and in between
The ganging giant speakers there beside
His shoulders and in front. The sheen
Of jazz spilled out across him and his young
Ones sitting at his feet and leaning back
Against his suit pants shins. The licking tongue
Of Dixieland pierced through them, left them slack
With gaiety—but not quite slack. The blond
One, orangey blond, was always very hard
To make go limp. He had a thick-veined wand
That cast its spell in ragtimes, left heart scarred.
..This redhead mixed a rhyme of scents, his sweat
….With honey heat of hunching Swingland threat.
~ Phillip Whidden