Music was hot like sugarblades,liquor flowing at just the right speed.Midnight landscapes receed into oblivioneach like thoughts fading into one another.Poems begin taggin themselves on rasberry velvet wallsinvisible hands clapping to rocksteady rhythms.Honor tapdances with my pleasure to be here with youlike pen and ink theres no better windsong than us.I hear the whistle, Coltrane in F sharp,Signalling we have reached another destination, or originationDepending on the passenger.(Choooooo Chooooo)Keep it jum jummin!________________________________________"With peace and love in my lungs, I hold my breath until the Poet returns."--Boxcarboys