Double Bass

by Paul Smith

The bass guitar tiptoes
around the roadhouse
hears a shotglass
keeps on going
no one notices him
Only when he stops
circles the liquor store
on a moonlit night
and listens
shakes his head and moves on
to the apartment building
creeps up the stairs
opens the door
at last
finds the drums
doused in mascara and rouge
waiting for their rendezvous
he lives for the ride, the snare and the cowbell
but what drives him
what quickens his pulse
what stops his heart
is the Hi-hat
her backside swaying
like a flower as she gets up and
struts so he can follow her
like he always does

About the author…

Paul Smith is a civil engineer who has worked in the construction racket for many years. He has traveled all over the place and met lots of people. Some have enriched his life. Others made him wish he or they were all dead. He likes writing poetry and fiction. He also likes Newcastle Brown Ale. If you see him, buy him one. His poetry and fiction have been published in Convergence, Homestead Review, Literary Orphans and other lit mags. He also plays the bass guitar.