
Ragtime haunts the ivory bone
as the marrow shares the soul of the tune
It plays
Tickled and fickled are the
acoutements which give color to the pallet
always in step below pressing on for
rhythm’s sake
Play they do as keys
to open a door or storage room
finding the right one was a feat
even without blinders on
And a rag would pass in time
across one’s nape
for the mistake would be hanging the melody
unable to mend spirit
Only a true medium could awaken those senses
Play do they as the keys
Minus their flesh you see the mark they make
With every breath the three-step makes
The ivory bone moans
in tones as if ringing up phones
Inviting those asleep
to a party with a good time to keep