• Vol. 02
  • Chapter 10


In the desert
your music changes, melding
with the harsh harmonics
of the landscape.
The mellow, smoky blues
leach away, replaced
by monochrome discords,
stark and brittle
as sun-bleached bone;
shrill and strident
as a stooping eagle;
pitched, somewhere,
between jazz
and insanity.

They drop you,
before Vegas,
fearing the crowd
will find your new sound
a little too close to home
for comfort;
leaving you stranded,
at the edge of the road,
somewhere between jazz,
and insanity.