free
ten spare minutes
a horn in my hand
and noone in the house?
noodle a scale
then a couple more
and hold
that top note
til it starts to swirl
and bend it to my will
and the lip-slurred harmonics
leaping like the sparks in a plasma ball
and them i'm away
tearing into the instrument
a flurry of fingers
a confection of notes and noises
an essential scream
responding to my every nuance as my thoughts and fears and joys and things for which there are no words come pouring through like the deluge after a dam is destroyed and each honk and squeal and lick rolls over the end of the last
and i'm dancing
and my feet make their own music
and my lungs are at their limits
and my heart is pounding
and my tongue is a blur
and i ...
and i ...
and i ...
and i ...
and i ...
and i get interrupted by a knock at the door
i would hate to have been my neighbours
but for ten brief minutes
it was great being me
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