Backstreet Beethoven

A saxophone floods the alleyway
organic melodies fill up the slit of a lane
creased waves lapping
                        rolling
down
rebound
echo against echo
sonic collisions
haunted and romanticised
memories
            false and real
resurrect themselves along the drowning
concrete corridor
time traveller footsteps bridging
the chords
copper coins
            erratic tip-taps in the top hat
drumming a sporadic jazz 
touching fingerplay solidified in metaphors 
by 
the idle reminiscence of the listener
who breaks his daze to fish a sliver disc
and add another beat
to the music of the street