The duty of a musician is for us to take anything that happens on stage and make it part of the music.
—Herbie Hancock, Master Class
No wrong notes in jazz, said the musician
and the poet insisted, no wrong words.
No wrong leaf, said the tree,
and field said, no wrong grass.
No wrong time, promised the friend
and the river said, no wrong rock.
And the heart said, no wrong love,
but the mind said, no, that’s wrong.
And the wrong love replanted itself like grass
and grew wild in all the wrong places
like a gorgeous weed, like a tap-rooted song
until the whole field was beautifully wrong, wrong.