sax dance

“I made the tenor sax—there’s nobody plays like me and I  
don’t play like anybody else.”—Coleman Hawkins  
 
and when he kissed the saxophone,  
          she screamed like molten brass,  
her unctuous passions left undone  
          by his tongue-teasing sass.  
 
to every button that he touched,  
          she sang a different song;  
and every key-point that he clutched  
          inflated her sarong.  
 
all kinds of jazzy curtain calls  
          made rich the evening’s fare:  
no instrument e’er thus enthralls  
          a saxman’s carnal flair.  
 
© Copyright 2023 November 30  
by Clyve A. Bowen♫