Blues in the Night: A Rondeau

Yeah, Black Bobby plays the sax. In the park
People peer around corners in the dark
To see the man who bleeds the blues at night.
The gnash of his notes rip like a birthright.
Black Bobby can play the sax like a shark.

Mad Mary twirls her skirts beneath the arc
Of the street light. She longs to be the spark
That Black Bobby gets when his horn is tight.
Yeah, Black Bobby plays the sax.

Black Bobby becomes a local monarch.
Everyone hungers to see his soul stark
Naked while he performs to their delight,
His sax blaring like a rattlesnake bite.
A forsaken man, blues his last remark.
Yeah, Black Bobby plays the sax.