offshore

for Martin Wolfhaardt and his jazz band Offshore

synaptic cyclones spark

iridescently in my brain

blisschievous fucking that swoons in

the turbulent waves

making chaotic sense of beauty that has

never been so alive as in these sounds of

sax bass piano and drums

be ready because

it will helix you

and swallow you

into the first hole of existence

boldly filling every crevice of body and space

with orgasmic beats

the blizzard of tone clusters

remap the constellations

my guts tremble shake and reshape

with the driving bass vibrating its

obsidian deep through my buttocks

trancing and spinning me off of my axis

the sounds envelope me like a cave

i can smell the dark mossy corners

encapsulating these momentary strains of

spontaneously masterminded music 

into delicious fever pitch delirium