Brisbane River Blues

On the boardwalk by the river a sax player lets loose with a melancholy blues riff. It's raw and dirty like the water and it flows in torrents. He's played London, Paris and New Orleans, or at least that's what his case says.

He's a real 50's jazz man, unshaven and misty-eyed, sweat gathering in the folds of his perfectly wrinkled skin.

The tourists gawk at him like he's dangerous and he sends it up, playing harder than ever.

It's loose. It's real. It's from the gut.

arching his back
he hears the sound
of money