Killer Performance

As the last long notes die away from the harp,

I lean over his shoulder and cut the strings.

The snap and twang of them cut deeply into

The fingers that so recently caressed them.

Picking up a baton, I plunge it into his chest.

His heart bumping the end of it, in time to the music in my head.

Frantically grasping at it, he falls over the music-stand.

Blood spatter, like violent notes, dropping on the sheets.

The second one is leaning back with his eyes closed.

He does not notice the footsteps,

Silent as the shadow crawl on the wall next to him.

A horn gurgles frothy-red from his lips, never such a sound!

I can't help but notice the twitching of his fingers,

Mimicing the pushing of the keys, as he tries to pull

The horn from his throat. The gush of blood...

Like a last evil blast of notes.

Percussion and guitar, piano and flute.

Such spirited stuff!

Trippy little notes, beaten with bass in counterpoint.

Picked notes floating, snared and brushed with drums.

I dance.....I twirl, and pirouette.

Bubbling tunes make the third, a marionette.

As he stumbles around with a mandolin

Smashed on his head, gashes of red tearing his face

His screams and a choir intermingle.

Climbing the scale in falsetto,

As the castanets tighten on his testicles.

Moroccos keep the beat, smashing his nose.

I need a cresendo! French horns do the trick.

The mournful sound of heroics,

Touch the banging sound of the piano.

He is last, but not the least as I distort his face.

The harmonica makes good looking teeth,

As I push harder to make him smile.

Electric guitar is pulsing with invisible rhythm.

His legs jerk Elvis-like as I plug it into his rectum.

Whistling a tune with his reedy grin,

He flops around like a rock star.

Thirsty are you?

A glass of water to bring you around.

Drumsticks tattoo a roll, and I applaud,

With a crash of deafening cymbals to his ears.

The last chorus sings, while I shout Bravo!

Truly a perfomance to die for!