YET ONE MORE BONGO SYMPHONY……

Lost in the chorale of empty streets filled with echo memories,
Can you dig the sound of naught, the utter cool of lost dreams
Harmonizing with the spirit of places been and now far gone,
Sounds of bongos dissonant, fingers snapping in the darkness,
Rhythms of days gone by, then the memory of future yesterdays
Played out like a skein unwinding into a moebius strip of fabric;

Notes ring out somewhere on the edges of consciousness,
Playing a symphony that was almost too far out,
Filling the ancient concert hall setting in the country of dreams,
With an audience of wandering hungry souls wreathed
In the smoke of audacious hallucinations tinged blue and
Framed in visions of the Mad Hatters very own tea party;

It all seems to come together in a land not on any map,
In a city painted with illusions of a life that cannot be attained,
And they scuttle to and fro amidst the garbage and the trash,
Seeking somewhere warm and dry to get some refuge from the storm,
Lost in the heart of a nation that all to often forgets the poverty
Bound, those on the fringe are for whom this symphony is written;

It may never be complete, this work of tortured beauty,
Yet the coda, the allegro non troppo can go near anywhere
For it only matters if the music is unheard, so listen to the madness
Of the chords rising, falling, reaching the crescendo of subway trains
In collision with the darkness that springs infernal with a roar,
As passengers move like insects in and out of stations without names…..