Charley Parker Played the Sax

With all this cryptic shit goin' on...it's pretty clear we need some music in a place like this at a time like this before the big reveal.

Charley Parker would be good.

Charley Parker played the sax like he was trying to forget something sad and in the process of forgetting, Bird remembered something beautiful. somethingalluring, something breathtaking, irresistible,tantalizing, tempting

Charley Parker played the sax like he was trying to cram sixty years into thirty, trying to live three lives at once, trying to forget the future death of daughters unborn, to be born with holes in their hearts, hearts filled with innocence, fatherly neglect, exclusion, marginalization and omission that would in the beginning of their eternity fuel them to jam, to jive, to harmonize with those angels who bring Autumn to New York.

Simple, really, so simple that Bird could fly without effort; soar free past narrowing clouds of bald scentless vultures closing in on their next fresh, lifeless meal signalled by eyes, microscopic, telescopic and eight times brighter than the windows of the world's most famous junkie spending each night on a subway, pawning saxophones to feed the beast,asking Dizzy for help, for brief respite that neither Chan nor Mr. G had any idea how to supply much less provide a stoplight nor shelter for because he, she, they, themselves perceived infinite numbers of snow headed cool guys huddled neck deep in Big Muddy, hoping to thaw, watching the Mississippi recede at every futile sip.

Charley Parker played the sax like there was no space, no time between where he placed his fingers on the keys and where his heart lived even though his body barely moved. Charley Parker played the sax with extended intensity that eventually surrendered to splay fingered melody that made silent Thelonius Monk get up off his stool and dance.

Charley Parker played the sax. Simple paragraphs, full of complex sentences, conflicting synonyms of symmetry, celebration and sadness. Stream of consciousness for sure. 

Repetition, repetition of course yet never the same way twice, not even love two times. Right up until the end, after the telegrams, the Baroness and the juggler. Charley Parker played the sax.