The Jazz Man

September 26, 2010
By Sorruay SILVER, La Grange, Illinois
Sorruay SILVER, La Grange, Illinois
8 articles 0 photos 2 comments

Two strangers, fading away in a never-ending elevator.
Their conversation's sound like lullaby's
their dreams rain down and create craters,
in their over-reactive mind's.
The man speaks words of wisdom,
He says, “You and I,
Speak in silent tones as if secrets are being spilt from a pool of lies.
You and I
Withhold truth from ever-longing eyes.
The man recalls the story of his life.
But comes to an abrupt pause
when the woman says
I am just a face in the hall,
listening to an addict of life on a withdrawal.
He began to question the very essence of being human…
He looked at the woman and realized she was a jazz instrument.
He’d been talking to a saxophone
while he was high on heroin.
And in that instance,
He fell in love with a woman who was a figment of his imagination.
Could this really happen to him?
So many questions and for years on end he chased through his imagination,
Drifting further and further down into heroin addiction.
When he played his saxophone he let true jazz flow with true passion,
He leaked out emotion.
As if real emotion is what stabbed him
And not a needle that was hair thin.
His fantasies began to melt in,
and combine with real life,
until he could not decipher which was which
through his fantasizing eyes.
He would never realize his plight.
And when he cried for the woman at night
she would appear by his bedside but only for a short time.
Some nights they would walk hand in hand,
woman and man.
Passerby would stop and stare,
at the one man marching band.
Some nights he found himself lying with the woman on the beach
roses at their feet.
He wondered why after they made love it felt like a dream,
and strangers would applaud whistle and scream.

Life was not as it seemed.

He found himself in the street
the boulevard of broken dreams.
Where life was bitter sweet.
Walking in an alley with the woman
He came upoon a broken mirror and
became distraught with what he seen;
Not a women but a saxophone and in the drakness it gleamed.
He clutched his own body,
Dropped to his knees,
After whispering I love you
He let out a piercing scream.

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