Music Lust

The soldiers come over the hill with the rising sun
An out-of-tune trumpeter leads the way
Sorrowful notes expelled from the rusty horn
An invisible elephant swings his trunk low
Marching behind his company

The geisha dances slowly for her customers
The koto fills the space between the charming chant
Notes fall soft like bold dying leaves
The taiko moves like a cargo ship
Docking at the port in San Pedro

A sleepy queen bumble bee fills up on nectar
Burrowing into the roots of an ancient oak for the imminent winter
The brass skeleton key rattles in the locked door
The piano player puts his head to the window pane
Feeling the draft against his skin as he watches another snow

A wolf’s portrait in distinct lines
Electric brown tinged with cream
Inspired predator of monochrome
The eyes staring down at me
In flawless gray

Venus Di Mannequin
Bathes in the pond
The pine pollen paints the surface a cautious yellow
The blossoming blue lotuses
Brush against her virgin breasts

Music lust, wish you could hear with my ears for once
The thirsty woman drinking her glass of summer wine
At the luncheon of the boating party
Between the men in top hats and the ones in sleeveless shirts
Aline plays with her puppy as the sun turns into a tea rose


Andrew Borne is 2 Cups Poet 1 teaspoon Musician 1/4 teaspoon Salt 1/2 cup Absurdity 3/4 cup Chef 1 egg, beaten 2 1/3 cups Family Man. Mixed together and served raw. His column 7x appears weekly in Oddball Magazine.