Apparently you don't have to be named "Bones"
or know how to play an instrument to enjoy the music down there.
I had an hour to kill,
so I sat on the dirty sidewalk
on a hot summer day
and dropped a few dollar bills
in a worn and scuffed plastic pail.
Emily and Monica were wandering
the shops at Jackson's Brewery,
looking for gifts for me.
I was nursing a rapidly warming
'world's biggest beer'
while listening to soulful sounds
from an out-of-tune saxophone,
with a duct tape neck strap.
It may have been the alcohol,
or too much sun,
but I was ready to dance,
as if the lone grizzled man
playing "The Dixie Trot"
was a boogie woogie jazz band.
Monica and Emily wandered over
arms filled with bags and hugs.
"Ready to go get something to eat?"
I skipped down the street
to Tujagues with songs in my head and heart.
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