my son sits down with his guitar

hands me the headphones

crimson spiders

creep into my head

this riff by JS Bach

or did Berlioz compose

these braids

birds in a tapestry

on wall to wall night

adjusts the parameters

it's a boogie in treacle

a bon vivant air

tendentiously climbing to heaven

a room in a mood

baptising strangers

who sit out the flood

in pyjamas

listen to this

and this

every experiment

caresses

the nape of my neck

then

nineteen more bars

of bliss