Blue

In a valley near Ketchikan, a small bear was snoozing under a
blanket of snow. He woke up, jiggled his cold toes, pulled the tickly
snowblanket over his chin. He opened one eye, squinted at the
too-bright sun, sneezed twice, and went back to sleep, murmuring. A
small green man appeared in his dream with a long and pokey
stick:

"Oi! Blue!"

The man showed him a vision of grey streets under grey skies, and in
the twilight, in the shadows of a run down, shuttered-up building, the
silhouette of man. He was hunched forward, playing on an
saxophone"

"Now Lemon Jones aint got no toes
And he aint got no mind." (said the man in the dream)

"Some say he's dead, some say he's drunk, yellow- eyed, and half
blind

Some say he lives with flamingos
Some say he lounges in a tree
with a Cockatoo
from London zoo
and a ringo ringo ree -

One thursday morning, years ago
He vanished without trace,
Stepped into the morning smoke
and no one's seen his funny face -

Now Lemon Jones he had no toes
but he could play trombone
he had rhythm burned in the lines of his hands
and the sorriest Labrador eyes
as he leaned into his trombone

He had a cough like a sleety wind
an eboneezer soul
His song landed on your insides
like a drift of sudden snow
it blew you away -

He had giant sausage fingers
green knitting needle shoes
and he played trombones and saxophones
like nobody knew.

So-"

Blue woke up. "Mnnnnmn" he said, and wished for his two favourite
things, a blonde and a ginger biscuit. The little green man jumped up
and down on his belly, pricking him with sharp, pointy shoes, and
wildly waving about his pointy stick.

"You'll find them biscuits and them blondes along the way, now GO! Find
this Jones!

So that very day, Blue flew.
He came, ticket less, without a train,
from Ketchikan to London town,
in a big lasso with a trampoline and a camel too,
and landed slam on a window pane
of a second floor flat,
in Petticoat lane.
He slpet in a chimney, and woke up smoked. He got up, and went to Caf?
Pegs, cut two round holes in a newspaper, and decided to spy for Jones.
He spied and spied and spied. First he spied the eggs, and chicken
rolls,the sausage pies, the mash surprise, with extra fries. Blue's
belly grew until it could fit a bicycle made for two. But no Lemon
Jones. He went to the launderette, the library, the clubs and the dregs
of society. Jones had vanished years ago, he was rarely talked about,
except as a myth. Blue walked along the streets at night. He loved the
rain, the black taxis in the wet, and the red and yellow lights.
Sometimes he danced with the parking meters, sometimes he danced til
dawn, he'd whoosh down a rubble shoot, or come home with a blonde. But
still no Jones.

"What you need to do" said a crow, as Blue drank his morning
coffee

"is play til you bust your gut
Play out of your heart
Give it all you've got
Then Jones'll hear the lot
If you play for seven brights
If you play it deep
Hell creep out like a shadow?

Well, what are you waiting for, Get lost!"

Blue wasn't convinced. He sat and wished his mother could carry him
home. He kept looking through the autumn as the rain turned into snow.
He wished for the eagles and mountains of Alaska, and the stars. One
day, in the snow mud slush at his feet, he tripped over something.
"OW!"
He picked up a flattened pipe, and blew into one end.

"MURK."

Blue shook his enormous butt, and wiggled it for joy. He began to
play

"ARP PARP PARP"

He went "SQUNARK" over all the roofs.

He played for months until he went

"SQUARYARK"

One night he stood under a lamppost by the river, and played til the
sweat dripped from his brow, until his fingers ached, and he had clouds
in his eyes. He sighed. Out of the corner of his eye, across the
street, under the awnings, he saw someone standing, who had a racking
cough. A cough like a wind. But he played, and as he played an anaconda
saxophone began
to slide around the street

And the river began to shiver
And the trees plied
And the moon swooned
And traffic wardens ran away
and the rain rained silver
And the cars tapped their toes
the yellow lines wiggled in time
And a judge lost his nose
They made the rain rain silver
and he knew it was Jones,
when the windowwipers did the Charleston
And the traffic cones dove
And the lampposts all did the tango
And then the double bass began?.
like gorillas dropping into chocolate ponds
DING DONG BINGALLY BONG!

And then, when he looked up, Jones was gone. Blue looked at the
lamppost, and it seemed that it was made of sunlight. He wished to be
carried home. The very next day, Blue flew, back to a place where he
could see the stars.

Now, in Alaska, it was always silent whereever you stand, like a midget
in the palm of the mountain's hand, while bone thin giants crept across
the crunching glacier ice.
And it was silent, as you might dip a finger into the water at
sunset.
Through the branches of the trees, honey melted. The land was full of
dreaming trees, holding cupped hands, waiting for borrowed shoes.
Waiting for Blue, who landed, slap bang into his bed.
He said hello, to the cat in the sky, who giggled. Her grin was as wide
as
a soup spoon. She blinked and danced, and licked the milk from the
moon. Now Blue got out his piece of pipe, and began to play.
And the anemones began to jiggle
and the oct &; Tupi hummed a tune
and the jellyfish whooshed
and the blooshibles floooshed
and the starfish swished around the fish
and the whales spouted splish splish splish
and the seals shuddered
and all blue whale juddered
and the salmon pranced
as all the bears danced
to lemon jones' blues.