Some people do drugs. I don’t do drugs. I do music. And not just any music. Jaazzz music.
Funky shit tonight. I feel dizzy & confused. I shouldn’t listen to the flute. Between my eyes hurts. The dose of poison lies in their minds.
Tonight I am waiting on the dawn of a pirate ship. I’m sitting on the floor behind Chuck’s podium. The fog is thick and everything is lit up. The night is quiet and a cool breeze jostles just the leaves. Something is coming. The ship is coming.
I sit here inside Dizzy’s and watch it happen, all without sound – just jazz – through the windows. The energy is here and the ship is coming. I feel paranoid. Oh the energy. Breathe. Invading my mind.
It may be possible the alien ships use the fog to pass in the night undetected by the human eye. No one really knows what lies beyond. I feel dizzy. I think I’m overdosing. Too much jazz. TOO MUCH JAZZ.
I feel frantic. Breathe…
The world is turning now. There is no one here.
They’re coming. The ships are coming.
I need to call Dr. N.
(trumpet stops, bass starts)
My face is hot, whole body tingles. Feel euphoric. Try to breathe.
The sound bends time. Keep light in mind. And I’m the sober one.
Mainlining jazz. I feel dizzy. —
More often than not this happens when Gilbert plays. Spirit energy.
Cold. Now it’s cold. Why is it cold?! More flute. GO AWAY FLUTE!
Hard to breathe. In… Out…
© Michelle Routhieaux 2011