Lead Guitarist: poetry

LEAD GUITARIST CONTEMPLATES THE PERFECT MOMENT WHILE LISTENING TO REMAIN IN LIGHT, SIDE 2, AFTER SIX WEEKS ABROAD

Harold Whit Williams 

 

Could you spot & identify it? Jot it down on your life list?

We all think that we could, with our bleary third eyes

A gunmetal grey arcus cloudbank crawling

& sword-swallowing the filthy megalopolis

You’ve never dared visit a king cheetah

Cruising South African veldt sleek-stalking

Your rib-thin & sickly inner child gazelle

Spring snow melting on a high school lawn

Your oral surgeon’s wallpaper dervish-dancing

The exact second that Ativan dose kicks in

The smell – evoking pignut hickory woodsmoke

Or mother’s cast-iron skillet cornbread or hashish

Crumbled with strong tobacco & smoked in thin-

Rolled cigarettes served with grappa & espresso

Gas fumes huffed at an I-40 Flying J truck stop

Honeysuckle perfume when its stamen is pulled

The feel – vinyl car seats in August the taste –

Warm Budweiser & a neighbor’s Caldo de Res

& lo the heavenly sounds these moments make!

Brian Eno’s Afro-minimalist knob-twiddling

David Byrne’s stork-squawking vocal takes

A hermit thrush singing in midwinter honeybees

 

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