Jazz Man

He stands
Light catching his horn
Shadows on his face
Silk shirt tie-dyed with sweat
Ash on his shoe
From the cigarette dangling
From his lips
Smoke embraces his lungs
Like a long lost friend found
A final pull
He drops the smoke on the floor
And crushes it with his toe
The room goes quiet as he
Puts the trumpet to his lips
Closes his eyes and
Exhales his troubles in
One long wail
And a nother
And another
You can almost hear
His lungs scream
As his trumpet cries
His finger dance the dance
Of too much hard liquor
An too little love
He plays like the music
Has been the one thing
That tore his life apart
But he couldn’t live without
Beating the horn with blows
That makes it beg
For mercy
But then
In an instant
Like the blink of an eye
He begins to make love
To it
Like every woman
He meant to treat right
Before the music got in the way
His fingers
Slowly caress the keys
Smoothing out the bruises
And kissing the wounds
With gentle wind from
Puckered lips
The trumpet moans
And sighs and falls in love
All over again
As climax strikes
And sweat drops
Onto the floor
He pulls the horn
Gracefully from is mouth
Opens his eyes
And lights another cigarette
The room explodes
Appeased and satisfied
The jazz man cometh
But shades his eyes
From the gleam of the trumpet
That rules his life

by Empress Nzingha

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Palace