When Nothing Else Matters

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