When Nothing Else Matters

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Every night he plays

Lost in a melodic never land

Far beyond the controlled confusion of this place

Where they hear but don’t listen

A man and his woodwind meld so sweet

Like French vanilla melting under a warm butterscotch heat

The brass wears a high shine glisten

Together

They birth a velvety sound with a satin slickness

Inside this fractured shack

Seedy to the eye at a glance

The easy breeze of happen stance

Finds me in the company of brilliance

Once, maybe twice in a man’s life will he ever get this chance

And I’m the only one who sees

On the dusty planks of a crippled platform

He blows with passion

Flaunting the elasticity in his swollen cheeks

Delicately caressing those nickel plated curves

The reed of his horn climaxes in pleasurable shrieks

A chemistry uncanny

And amongst a consistent unflattering chatter

A man and his horn in a world all their own

He drops to his knees

His horn a steady moan

As if nothing else matters

They would continue to speak

Whispering in smooth harmonic tones for some time

And in the end

He gently wipes her mouth taking good care

I am blessed to have seen such a thing so rare

He treats her so kind

As they quietly disembark to little appreciation

Just a man, his horn

And their nightly situation

I offer a slight nod as he strolls passed

He smiles seemingly flattered

Unassuming

They exit hand in hand

The same way they entered

As if nothing else mattered

Copyright © 2014 by Daryl R. Gaines. All rights reserved