The Toreador Song

I wander lonely as a cloud
amongst the spittled flecked rant
of undisciplined and disconnected ramblings
I clasp my hands together in prayer and
with a squeeze and pump-behold-I produce
The ' Toreador Song '
Bass trombone interludes reminiscent
of a Scottish podiatrist I once knew
seemed eerily close by
Amazing appendages - hands
What better accompaniment to the 1812
(my next project )
than the rumbling of distant cannon fire
across the ocean