Swinging Intermission

tap tap tapping
my fingers to the beat
cigarette smoke and
syphonic notes
circling at my feat
the crescendo breaks
and the saxophone aches
burn burn burning
through the room
twisting notes
lingering like red wine
on my glass
and my fidgeting hands
playing with the band
tickle the tabletop
sticky with the atmosphere
rolling through the jazz guitar
and pounding out the bass
I've left my seat
and wandered through the halls
I'm out walking the night street
scuffle scuffle slide
I'm on the west side
I'm on the east side
my feet barely touch the ground