But babe I’ll be back when the sun starts to seep through the leaves / When I can sing you a song as you sing along on these magic Berlin streets / With our night riding / Midnight gliding / Morning dancing / Pavement prancing / You know oh you know / You know I’ll […]

When our two souls stand up erect and strong / Face to face, silent, drawing nigh and nigher / Until the lengthening wings break into fire / At either curvèd point,—what bitter wrong / Can the earth do to us, that we should not long / Be here contented? Think. In mounting higher / The […]

Do that thing, jazz band! / Whip it to a jelly / Sock it; rock it; heat it; beat it; then fling it at ‚em / Let the jazz stuff fall like hell on king and truck driver, queen and laundress, lord and laborer, banker and bum (Amok Amor, poem by Frank Marshall Davis)