forty lines, he said
alright you write em and I'll sing em up for ye
no, he said you've got to sing them in the cave
what cave
the cave by the meadow
what meadow
the meadow by the blacksmith's
what blacksmith
aren't you the blacksmith?
no, the only thing I've ever been handy
with around the house is a guitar
look at these fabulous lithe long-legged creatures
I can't see them
you have to be asleep to see them
asleep where
asleep on the berm overlooking the road
5 am creeping slow in the snow
the new morning snow
good night kid you got a long
way to go till morning but let
that song be your light
red blue and green
synesthesian late bloomer
is all I have been
forget that past
put in in a webcast
lash yourself to the mast
and give them the show
pseudonymous
pure
hidden
obscure
and with
terrible allure