Another room
spins around
upside down
past all those
slippery poles
shoots up 2#1
new-found land
just three cords
talent's the ticket
an easy beat
hum the words
even my old man
looks so... good
this stuff works
twist and shout
have a cigar
carpets fly
somehow high
alone they part
never so low
soliloquy comes
don't cost nothing
like pulchritude
farewelled too soon
rock opera arias
image: Seven dances (detail) / ceramic drum / clay / underglazes / JMS
Love this poem. Love the image. Cheers, Jeffree. A question: three cords of muscle or three chords of music? :)
ReplyDeleteOr three cords of rope?
DeleteI'd pack three of each... (surely :-)
ReplyDelete