Little Song

BY ROWAN RICARDO PHILLI PS

Both guitars run trebly. One noodles
Over a groove. The other slushes chords.
Then they switch. Its quite an earnest affair.
They close my eyes. I close their eyes. A horn
Blares its inner air to brass. A girl shakes
Her ass. Some dude does the same. The musics
Gone moot. Who doesnt love it when the bass
Doesnt hide? When you can feel the trumpet peel
Old oil and spit from deep down the empty
Pit of a note or none or few? So dont
Give up on it yet: the scenario.
You know that its just as tired of you
As you are of it. Still, theres much more to it
Than that. It does not not get you quite wrong.