Tonight I sit, boy-clarinetist emeritus, hunt-and-peck pianist, guitarist only in my dreams --- and play language instead. I'll be playing nouns and verbs, consonants and vowels, stresses and unstresses, pyrrhics and spondees.

Tonight I'll improvise a blues tune, a jazz riff, a Scarlatti sonata, a power ballad, arena rock, glam rock, hard rock, alternative rock, emo, shoegazing, a post-punk paint-peeler, a fab remake of the Beatles, a campy cover of the B-52s. Tonight I'll perform an aria, belt out a drinking song, hum a disco tune, sing a Christmas carol, intone cantillations, chant Gregorian.

Tonight I'll smoke imaginary cigarettes, drink real cups of coffee, replenish myself with water and sleep and prayer and poetry.

Tonight I'll think of tomorrow when I'll play for you and for you alone.