Monday, October 12, 2009

I am no musician

I am no musician
shouts a man into the night
angry as a trash can
filled by firelight
Stalin is his comrade
rhetoric his kite
lofty in the heavens
pandering and bright

I am no musician
crones a beatnik from the stage
empty like a row boat
leaky with old age
wisdom is his mentor
Solomon his sage
poisoning the future
from his current cage

I am no musician
pines a hero of the past
pretty as a widow
from a lowly caste
Gandhi is her savior
loneliness her fast
tying up her mourning
to a slave ship's mast

2 comments:

matt said...

I don't know why, but I really like this. Your last few poems have been deep. It's taken more than a casual read to soak them in.

Matt

Greg LaFollette said...

man...this is good.

tight.