Sunday, December 31, 2017

instrument



a body of poplar and nerves silver bright,
long cracked and nyet-played, artwork tonight:
   diadem glass bauble: ocean glass smooth,
   gleaming hot fuchsia lozenges: glued:

her guitar persona and curvy appeal

from trash heap i rescued for honor annealed
  a day on the workbench a few bowls of weed
  what once made music, woden child's steed

instrument then, mind relic now,

how similar the human and all time allows:
   re-purposed, our instincts to mechanical sloth
   shackled in process, normality's cloth

tree liked his wood, once it were his own

guitar had a chance, now art has his loan
   


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