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.


Born and raised in Portland, Oregon, Budd writes to encourage readers to explore the depths of their inner ocean, an unexplored self, because it's fun once you get through the emotional part... “The world around us is our vehicle, what you'll read is how I digest it.” -Budd

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