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sawing cat gut
and nylon for music
I press the tiny
instrument
against my chest
like a lover
in a slow dance
or an embrace
that wipes away
absence from
Grace
the music plinks
and plunders
my mind
with palm trees
and grass
skirts
islands
never seen,
rhythms only
tasted
one strum and
I am there
supine on a beach
and not sitting
in this chair
strumming out a beat
for no one but myself
to hear
naked spirit dances
while still legs jolt
tonight I am the drunk
retired criminal
looking over his shoulder
for the law that never came
with a bent half-smile
that still survives
mahogany resounds
the action of the sounds
the shaking of the air
another flick of the wrist
time passes
© 2006 J Carlton Media LLC |
