CONCERTO IN ALLEGRO BOZO / Robert Smith

the air is blue with serpentine smoke,
and the audience has its eyes
riveted upon the little stage,
where Nelson Symonds grimaces, sweats, mumbles
and multiplies feverish improvisations,
twisted convolutions and electric evolutions
spinning a tale of love on his guitar.
on piano, Jean Beaudet rocks back and forth
and weaves a melody through dissonant chords and runs.
the group is cooking up a frenzy
of delirious wisdom,
the instruments have a life all their own
giving birth to eternity.
a flock of tropical birds fly from the stage
in a crazed flurry of feathers and musical notes,
I'm waiting for the elephants and lions
to charge through the nightclub
and knock over waiters, tables and customers,
I'm waiting for an apocalypse to rock the world.
the tune comes to a climax, I think I'm going to scream,
the audience applauds, the waves of passion
subside, ebb and
die...
let's go into the back room and smoke a joint.

October 1982