by guest, Domenico Capilongo
and they ask him. stop him on his way to the piano mumbling to himself. I didn’t believe it till I saw it. the mumbling. “thelonius,” they say, “mr. monk you often wear different hats when you play.” and you can see it. his eyes acknowledging the camera like it was some alien. see the way he sort of fidgets? he’d rather be at the piano. his body turned off to the side too big for the bench feet moving uncomfortable in his own skin. “do you think the hats have an effect on the music?” you can hear the pause between notes. his brain composing an off-beat melody minutes before twelve. he mumbles something and then you can almost hear him say, “what the fuck, man? it’s just a fucking hat. listen to me play. listen to the damn music. let it fill you up.” he shrugs his shoulders like he’s trying to let his jacket fall. says something like, “I don’t know, maybe.” his breath trailing, contemplating the nuance of every note of the question. watch it. listen. see for yourself.
As published in hold the note (Quattro Books)
Domenico Capilongo lives in Toronto with his family. He teaches high school alternative education and practices karate. He has had work published in several literary magazines including Geist, and Dreamcatcher. He was short-listed for the gritLIT Poetry Contest 2009. His first book of poetry, I thought elvis was Italian was published in 2008 with Wolsak and Wynn and was short-listed for the 2010 Bressani Literary Award. His new book of jazz-inspired poetry, hold the note, was recently published with Quattro Books. ( learn more at: http://sites.google.com/site/domcapilongo/)