tonite i hang out
at the late late show
seated with a Cab
held in my hand with my
hat off with my ears
open with my eyes
gripped on stage
watching and listening
to virtuosos pick, strum, kick,
blow and thump wonder

as i drift on a sea of solace
my cares swirl down
into whirlpools generated
by a whirl of notes hurled
from the music sheets
streamed from consciousness
of a sweet improvisation

and i drift and i drift
on my sea of solace
as i listen to sounds
crafted just for me
and my peers and
my contemporaries
and our cares are made lost
in the whirlpool made living
by a whirlwind made alive
from the voice of lovely music
from the voice of a beautiful sound