The Orchestra Part 1

The screeching of the violins runs across the night

noises left and right caught in a ray of light blazing like

hellfire from the full moonlight. The moonlit bars alive with

the harp that struck a darn chord, burnt out and bored it is

more or less the hoard of gold they want. Out with the gun

in with the knife. Hugs the bullet and runs for his life. Out the

end of a whiskey bottle and into the eyes of the wine. He’s scared

out of his sacred mind. The lemon and lime scent of the clarinets

bring back thoughts of the powers like the jets and engines

that once spat back at us when we dared to make a move forwards.

One step at a time, but now we’re coming back several times for

the same damn thing. It’s like a depression that doesn’t keep swinging

but brings the damnation all the same. It’s a compulsion to repress anger

and issues that swelter. Murderous instinct that hurts the ones you care

about. The flutes won’t understand and the piano won’t listen. It does

however, glisten in the tranquil visage of the maintenance man whose

hammer has just come down upon its keys. Please leave me be. Take this

and that and whatever will be will be. Pray to god, pay god to take the pain

away. That hurts but we’ll still play. Here’s the knight, dressed in white pale

moonlight and red like blood. He makes a move on the thudding and banging

of the man in the suit sitting, smoking in the section where it suits. He

doesn’t complain but campaigns the night away by expressing his right to

stay out all night and not end up like the double bass. Cello is his friend

they said, but took away the daily bread and spent it on rations of who knows

what again and again. It became like hellfire, the blinding power of music

beautiful and makes you lose it. Young people are so overused to it. Overused

and underpaid, under-loved in other ways. They pay like the double bass and play

like the piccolo makes his own way, paves his own grey sky with a dark pink - a lark

sits on a tree and that’s where the piano, broken,

hammered,

out of his goddamn mind,

will wait for me.