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On the web since 1999
No one knew why he did it. Why early one August morning, the day after I turned eleven, when stores were just pulling up their metal gates, and delivery trucks were double parked in front of them, when as Mama said the sun was so oppressive you could fry an egg on the sidewalk, Mr. Carmichael left his seventh-floor apartment right above ours in The Bridgeton Apartments…
...May 14th, 2020
There had to be hundreds of people standing in the rain, waiting to get into Misty’s Supper Club on Lenox Avenue for my brother Ishmael’s memorial. I swallowed the lump of grief in the back of my throat and surveyed the crowd, fans and protégé’s of his music, as varied as a pot of jambalaya.
Some people recognized me from seeing
...September 20th, 2016
”“Mingus au Paradis” by Manuel J. Grimaldi
The Sunday Poem is published weekly, and strives to include the poet reading their work.... Manuel J. Grimaldi reads his poem at its conclusion
Click here to read previous editions of The Sunday Poem
Click here to read more book excerpts published on Jerry Jazz Musician
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