Where do I go when the music starts?

 

Where do I go when the music starts?

When I blow my horn and jazz blurts out?

Maybe I am holed up in the right hemisphere with the shades drawn

– the motel existential.

Maybe I go underground and then

Maybe, man, I am submersed head-to-toe in liquid sublimity –

Me being all lava-in-a-lamp like.

 

Where do I go when the music starts?

I go with it.

 

© Sally Paradise, 2011, All Rights Reserved

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