a bunch of noise

a demon crouched upon it’s haunches
staring woefully into the fire
its violin used as kindling
cracking and splintering a bassless choir
each string separately
did twang and pop
the tuning keys unwound
and hot potato dropped
the F holes spewed fire
Mr Daniel’s laughed
hot steam cracked the rocks
bow drawn, it split the path
spruce curled and whistled notes
that make wild dogs turn and stare
while the ribs of the instrument
collapsed into a crescendo of sparkling flares
the demon weary of the game
poked a singed finger at the coals
righted himself and stretched
mentally checking off another of his goals
now, he reckoned, Georgia was not far away
and with a little luck and a lot less money
he’d check another thing off his list
when he caught up with that punk, Johnny!