One Way Jazz Club

The mood begins to settle.
 Prompting back chairs that
 have been flipped upside
 down.
 
 Legs stretching straight upward
 in a row. A medieval dungeon.
 A torture chamber. Waiting to
 impale those that fall in it's
 grasp and defy the outcome.

 Smell of booze and licor etched
 in rings. Leaving evidence
 embedded in the grooves of nearby
 wooden tables from the night
 before.

 Neon lights, flashing lights.
 Two small chandalier's hanging
 from above suspended in
 mid-air. Making this almost a
 sanctuary place housed by music.

 Walking down the path-way.
 Making my way to the back
 stage. Down the halls of the
 infamous green room. You
 can smell the cigars and
 perfume.
 
 So many greats that roamed
 the halls. That put their names
 engraved in each brick that laid.
 Down these corridors.
 History was made.

  Hanging in each photograph you
  can feel them wink at you.
  Seeing there stare. Music erupted
  from their eyes. Their passion
  could be felt. Never to be mistaken
  Names like.
  
   (Frank Sinatra, Dean Martin, Louie
     Armstrong, Nat King Cole, Miles
     Davis, Johnny Cash. Not to forget.

     The one and only Elvis Presely.)
   
   Their spirits still linger. Closing
   your eyes. You can almost hear
   the music play.

     " Five, six, five, six, seven, eight
        Anjoeline,.... man that Anjoeline
        She made you smile. Lovely as
        can be. O man that Anjoeline....
        Captured  your heart. Got you
        under her spell.....Anjoeline

      Married a man down by the bay.
      She had her way. Got you by her
      charm and broke your heart.
      Danced the night away....He was
      never the same....Devilish
      charm. Feisty as can be...
      Oh!... Sweet Anjoeline......why
       you be so mean."

      Those trumpets playing. That
      snare drum thumping. Saxophone
      whaling. Gave you goosebumps.
      Voices that sang and echoed
      through the walls. Singing away
      to the chorus at thee:

      One Way Jazz Club.

     The stage is set. Raise the red
     curtain. Smell of rye and lipstick
      stain on a table cloth at the v.i.p
      table Sweat and moisture in the mic
      stand.

      So many greats that performed.
      Underneath the strobe lights.
      Tighten those mics. Tune-up the bass
      and Amp up the speakers.
      In a room so vague. A mirage
      of people waiting for a show.

      Turn on that marquee sign to
      ignite the place and watch it come
      alive. Where the magic
      happens.

      Candles lit at each table. Let out a
      gentle glow. Where rhythm, style and
      grace adds to the flow. To set the pace.
      For that first sip and; that soft kiss.

     Get ready to witness that grand
     bravado and history re-written each
     night.  Know that you came to the right
     place.
    
      Flip the switch and let the music play.
     "Get those drinks ready and those
      hands a clapping at the.......
      One Way Jazz Club.


                       Ax.barajas