AN AUDIENCE OF GHOSTS
He composed his songs
In a feverish rush
Like babies impatient
To be born
Recording them on
Half-priced cassettes
In the unheated room
He called home
Then sending them out
To those that he hoped
Would christen him the
Next big thing
Only to find them
In a used record store
Among dozens selling for
A quarter
Our fantasies interact with reality and eventually
ReplyDeletewe get the real deal. Not always what we want, but
we can get a better perspective of what we need to do.