Dexterous

my friend plays saxophone
in the subway
makes loose change and
makes loose living seem so easy
he's got bohemian girlfriends
pierced noses with little gems in them
that twinkle in the dark
he keeps them bi-weekly
so many underground love tickets
swept onto the tracks
invariably picking one up
and taking a ride to the other side of town
where the rumble of engines is always escaping something

he comes home early when the birds get up
crawls lonesome into his bed
dream material brewing
like the coffee I'll be saving
to have with him
when he wakes
and tells me about the night
about the money
dropped in the horn case
about rich woman who wink at him and sometimes
pay in phone numbers
and I think
blowing the tune nightly's
gotta take some pair of lungs