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■ Escapism
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Soft crux of the foyer, sunken
in the wet smoke drained through the stunned lips of the audience Young boys became adults … tough stuff, confirming their value on the stage From the single spot of light scorching, Bebop was born like a feral beast, leaving no gasp for the eyes and the essence behind darkness; squeezing their old beliefs in a bottle – thrown on the sea of oblivion Waning pirouettes of the hot ladies were lost in the past time Old jazzy clothes were forgotten in the coffin, by the classics Bebop was running faster than the noise of a thought Now, the real masters broke their pianos, crush their sensations in the trembling legs, fast rhythms twist their heads like a saxophone The shaman spirit of Bebop possesses their being with a drum incantation to the ultimate levels of music They are the track of a hurricane on the territory of a silent audience
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