With nothing more
Than verses in my head
And a few under my arm
No guitar to hide in the bulkhead
No amp to rent at the other end
No reverb, delay, effects to tweak
I'll have a comfortable chair
And a short introduction
And polite applause
After every selection
The faithful will trickle in
From surrounding towns
Older ladies who have time for poetry
A child or two and a coughing man
And with these borrowed
Items from other poets -
A crutch of grief
A nostalgic seabreeze
And witty jazz metaphors
I'll hobble and paint
Over someone's despair
With my own carousel tones
And sad eyes
While outside
The cars will wait
In the Spring mud
8/3/08
copyright 2008 Trevor Haug
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