Jazz Notes
At the main bus terminal in Newark
by Anthony De Angelo
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Youth with sax on a balcony. Photo by R.J. Bianchino At the main bus terminal in Newark,
he was mumbling about stopping Jack from his hitch hiking.
He said he could hear the expresso stained
sound reverberating through the station.
He screamed about Larry and his damn bookstore.
He yelled "Jack, there are no howling tunes
of bop and jive blowing off the rooftops of the fifties".
Pointing at me, he wanted to know what I was doing there.
I told him I was waiting for a bus to Paterson.
He just laughed, and walked away.


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