Void and Compensation (My ear, my Alabama, my Monk)

Here comes Thelonious weather, all elbows and knees and in-between notes—a virtuoso thirst of clouds now tattering big blue and down come colored leaves who’ve left their lives as shades. Harbingers, the notes scurry like small children who in their cravings tend to disfigure themselves. My ear, my Alabama, and my Monk: My single malt, […]