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
and this
and this

every experiment
the nape of my neck

nineteen more bars

of bliss