bassoon

back when I heard
that cage music pound
the pin-drop egg-and-dart
mahogany molding
was an unraveling tundra
impossible
but then along came
low-blow symphony number so-and-so
swinging sweetly from the steppes
what a bas relief
so as I was saying
you have to feel it really deep
slowly hone in on the hand
upon the armrest next door
the opaque breezes
from the chandelier
lips bursting their seams
ready to dive right in like
gulls on mollusks or grandma
expanding under the mistletoes
Frank O. nipping at your monocle
his baked tongue loosening
long enough to fit into a whisper
“it is an orange bassoon”
yes folks a little diamond
tingles down below
sometimes just the mere geography
will do