When I was in College I had the unfortunate luck of being in the right place at the right time. Everywhere I looked, vampires. Well, not literally but definitely in the literature. Anne Rice, Buffy, Angel, many other fine novels that were NOT Twilight. What was an aspiring writer to do? The only thing a young, early twenties, angst ridden, writer of bad poetry could do.
Chapter Two: Put a Little Jazzy In Your Life
I remember that it was my first time to New Orleans. The city was entrancing, colorful, exciting. It stole my breath away, like some hobgoblin of myth. No joke intended.
I went to this little pub, a back alley place that tourists did not often frequent. Some cigarette girl told me of it, said that I could get what ever I wanted there, and the best music.
It was quaint, quiet, and the clientele were…good. I became bored quickly, as I always do, and was about to leave when the band started playing. What music! It was incredible! Nothing I had ever heard even came close to the sounds these beautiful, dark men were playing.
It made the body move and twist and the soul writhe in time with a sultry beat. I wanted to hold it in and savor its taste. Note after note, song after song. Jazz.
Since that night my life of nights has never been lonely, and I have never been bored. I play a saxophone in an all-night club in the same city where I discovered what that horn is and what it can do. Some nights I get so caught up in the rhythm and the sound I forget to feed, and I no longer care. Not when I’m playing anyway.
However, tonight does not seem to be one of those nights, and you really don’t play all that well.
Chapter one is at:
http://authspot.com/poetry/dominic-self-styled-demon-warrior-of-old/
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