Tag Archive: Pali Gap


Angst Rubato

Not enough gypsies around these days,
too many straights and narrows.

Riffs in overdrive, suck kick-drum air
atop the bass, leave a razor scar,
pop the weasel with a rim-shot snare;

all hail the power trio.

© Carlos Chagall, 2013

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Discount Music

and there was Marvin, collar turned up to the rain,
Detroit falsetto, soars and says, “I see you world,”
sandpapers your soul to a smooth edge,
the syncopate rat-a-tat of conga accentuates
the question brother, of what’s really happening,

drop the needle on Abraxas,
outwait the whir-up hiss,
the outer groove of the vinyl,
enter the ancient, the Mayan,
dulcet rubato, a samba for only you,
a reason to wield your magic sticks.

she used to live in a room full of mirrors,
when 6 was 9, restrung, upside-down,
a weary broom, sweeping debris off the ridge-line
at Pali Gap, where we’d drop downs off the edge of our hands.

at the bungalow, L.A. women on the freeway
scream at the tops of their lungs,
if anyone knows from whence the salt air.

big yellow taxis were way too expensive for us,
we walked,  Williamsburg to Delancey,
searching for remnants of paradise paved over.

© Carlos Chagall, 2013

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