Fade Away
Open mic at Crown and Anchor –
again
-a beat down bar suggesting a
Sumerian Sunset
whilst I prefer a clean, sunlit festival
stage
that squires up in memory as I get
lost
massacring class like a cosmic axe-man
But all the guitar tricks I thieved
are clich
s:
The knuckleheads pshaw and shrug
at my riffs
ignore the excruciating soul
faces I make
My 20,000 subscribers slowly dwindled
to 12
-the Rocky Coleman Show’s not
what it used to be
You boring son of a bitch you’re
weightless now
festering in air like wisps of
ammonia and yeast
So I mutter incoherently over Mu
Gu Gai Pan
& muse upon better, salty day
phantoms of now
No comments:
Post a Comment