Brother Jazz and Lady Nicotine


Those acherontic hours in close rapport to my gibbous and waning friend.
At last reprieved from a scorching day-time heat that cracked the whip on my rattling bones. Still the fiend granted me more mercy than the blue funk simmering between the walls of my skull

- imagine yourself entombed, in a tight coffin, and your breath goes a-go-go, while writhing pale forms crawl in and out your decomposing husk to the melody of an atrocious waltz -

Suddenly I snap out of that torpid mood, shiver in expectancy as Brother Jazz preaches me his gospel. And I get his hint, follow it through, still lathered in cold sweet, every next step a torment. Not quite aware of my own action, I enter into the night air.

A cool breeze washes over me:the velvet cloak of midnight, Lady Nicotine wraps her filigree arm around mine. Together we're marooned in mystic silence. My rhythmic gait devours distances, while I flick on a wry smile that sets the world on fire.


Comments

Anonymous said…
That was incredible, evoking images of a smoky, cool, Afterlife nightclub where only a small elite are seated at intimate tables, sharing life stories, music tastes and smoking long, slim cigarillos as the band plays on for eternity. :)
7 December 2014 at 05:17
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