People remember Charlie Parker
Rode into Minton’s on a horse
Dressed in overhauls
Lip drooping a piece of straw.
People remember Charlie Parker
Hocking his alto for a fix
Living just anywhere
Raving out of control down a rainy street.
People remember Charlie Parker
Worked with the higher extensions
Of the chords, worked with strange
Intervals, unheard-of overtones.
People remember Charlie Parker
He was the one invented Bop,
A movement toward wide lapels,
Pegged trousers and peculiar talk.
People can’t remember a bird
In flight they’ve never seen.
Pocketa ta pocketa ta pocketa pock.
Klactoveedsedstene.
