Wednesday, September 9, 2020

As the wind blows, so do I.

From a studio beneath these writing tries.

A note, B note, all three up top, G note.

Do this long enough I’ll play into my bank account, C notes.

Sounds beautiful and you ain’t gotta agree tho’…

Just watch post pandemic when I’m blowing easy flows.

From sax lessons at Tubman, & at the church teaching me said notes.

Blow it like I know it.

Amateur days, own it.

Squeaky sounds so soon profound.

From a corner near you as others drop their change—WOW!

Am not homeless just passion blessed—tadow!

Masego inspired and FKJ transpired.

What that means—these beasts are blowing machines.

Aiding a melody I had no idea how to string.

It sounds so clean and soon you’ll agree.

How so? I’ll blow so.

Like Kenny G, somehow I’ll catch bro’…

Just as I did blowing random keys.

And in between writing words at ease.

-Budd

Born and raised in Portland, Oregon, Budd writes because no one can 'read' him. And it's a great way to hide public thoughts...

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