"There's not much doubt in any of our minds that no complete idea springs fully formed from our brow,
needing only a handshake and a signature on the contract to send it off into the world to make twenty-five billion dollars.
The germ of the idea grows slowly..." - Walt Kelly

Monday, January 7, 2013

Sour notes

All her life was percussion,
deep bass thumping in her chest.

There were times she spent abroad
that left her eardrums buzzing,

nights in strange, lonely places.
There were glimpses of sunlight

but then she was on her way,
a cobbled road back home to rest.

And if each dreary afternoon
could be just a little less acoustic

and a little more ringing brass,
she would know which melody

would lead her closest to the dream
and to rhythm's smooth embrace.

Playing on my iTunes at this very moment:
Middle Brother, Million Dollar Bill

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