Dizzy

It starts with that lean horn
bending toward the moon
like some crazy arrow
weaving a wild path
on the way to its mark.

It continues with him,
hipster nod, street lamp look,
smiling like a prophet
who knows just why the world
is round, why it orbits

in circles, frenzied pace,
in and out of control.
He walks a smooth, straight line
from corner to corner
of the lit-up room, horn

dancing all on its own.
The man’s fingers sure know
about flow, the way they
lead themselves to samba
like they were born island

children, with the music
bred in them, as natural
as wolves howling all night.

***

Aaron Rudolph is the author the poetry collection Sacred Things (Bridge Burner’s Publishing, 2002) and has poems in the anthology Ain’t Nobody That Can Sing Like Me: New Oklahoma Writing (Mongrel Empire Press, 2010). He has taught writing at colleges in Oklahoma, Texas, and a few other places.