Thursday, June 13, 2013

Immense Signs of Light in the Ohio Sky

I've been
to that cloud
seen its rapturous vapor
envelop me.  There is
no loud rule there
telling me to be
silent and kind
to my enemies.  If you
thought it was a wide
dark space, you're right--
flat and smoky
indigo with a crepuscular
light.  The tight
sense of favored

but awkward gifts.
When the final
gig begins, then,
pick up your
instrument gently--
the guitar should
be close to 
the hips, following 
the rock &roll
chakra.  As for the
sax, make it an tenor,
a man with hyper
mobility who must
play like he's Sonny Rollins.

And me, I'm just along,
picking chords
as if each one
were wrong, the
progression I make
near satanic.  Thing is,
who cares?  The band's
long ago split up
the players gone
 home to kitchens and lawns.

No comments: