“Sam Jones, Grant Green’s Oleo Sessions”

When she said my laptop was not on the table, I knew I’d left it somewhere at work, I drove fast to work through wet night streets missing my kids, I miss my kids like hot sweet curried cauliflower, like tart kale braised with garlic, I miss my kids like steam going through the kitchen, gone like late afternoon light far down long avenues, traffic shifting, like light flashing across corrugations of mountains at dawn, like the half-burnt small of fresh coffee, miss my kids—

—to Lisa and Andy

“Blue Mitchell and Chick Corea, Blue Mitchell’s The Thing to Do Session”

I drove really fast back to work to grab my laptop she mentioned I’d forgot it, while missing my kids like the creamy hot potatoes au gratin that I can’t eat, like the pungent salty blood sausage I never eat swimming in some imaginable soup with greens or mushrooms, passing vehicles on Huntington Drive at 50 mph, working too much makes me stupider and I’m probably working too much, I’m missing my kids like cream white yucca blossoms on a stalk in full sun, like the crisp black yucca seeds scattered by stiff wind from a stalk dessicated and black, hurrying over the viaduct through El Sereno hills, missing my kids like fresh-baked bread smell floats yeasty through a warm room, like footsteps slip through a house—

—to Hannah and Dave

“Ornette Coleman, The Empty Foxhole Session”

Knew I’d left it at work, the building empty but hallways fully lit and shining, driving through dark wet streets of night, miss my kids, missing them like somebody’s half-remembered bread smell in a faraway room, my vehicle hurtling through El Sereno hills hanging over the streetlamps, the old streetcar viaduct that’s already slated for demolition, I’m flying over it, missing my kids like the smell of a wet dog entering a room, like the siren of an unseen ambulance slipping and dodging rush hour traffic—but the streets are quiet, I miss my kids—

—to Umeko

photos by Francis Wolff

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