0.00
(0 votes)
You must login to vote
|
|
|
“Man,” he says, “I’ll tell you how it is.
You can’t just listen you gotta jump all in.
You gotta put your back into it, that’s all.”
The old bluesman stepped into dim light,
pulled a harp from his coat pocket.
He pointed to the drummer
and the band dove into a thick groove
just about walking speed.
When he put that microphone against his harp
a freight train exploded from the amp,
ten sledgehammers struck steel, sirens wailed,
dogs howled and a Lincoln town car peeled out
from a dirt parking lot; all of this at once.
The crowd was loose with liquor.
A hooker, a dancer, a librarian,
a few ironworkers and teachers,
four waitresses, a public lawyer
and a nurse sitting at tables and booths,
looking weary from the weight of dreary lives –
swaying with the blues groove,
1 – 4 – 5 and turn around,
juking to the riffs,
slapping on the backbeat.
------
The worst thing in the world is the homesickness that comes over a man occasionally when he is at home.
- E. W. Howe
|
