play it sam.

steam slithers out of the radiators ribcage....
it's lungs wheeze in a fit of heated pressure....

my feet dangle over the bedside, not wanting to touch the icy hardwood lake below....

illuminated dust particles drift lazily across the sunrise....
as warmer flooring beckons under allergic covered light....

i`m wishing i never played in that godforsaken speakeasy.... i may be the only person alive
that`s now in favor of prohibition....

naked flesh bristles with chilly electric shock....
my entire body is a livewire of fermented pain and bleary eyed indifference....

this is the life of a burned out jazz musician.

joel.