The Early Path
On The Road Again
When the
brothers and the sisters, having
heard that Paul
was back, back, back in town
they ran
down the road to the Three Taverns
which was
the venue for the camp meeting,
where I was
a roadie and got scale:
United in a
bond of common faith
we lived in
peace and love and harmony:
no
distinctions of power or fortune,
in the days
of heavy metal martyrdom;
and I set up
the amplifiers.
I drive the
bus… I’ve been the head roadie
since the
band split up and the elder James
stayed in
Jerusalem the Memorious;
Paul now plays reggae in Illyricium,
and
breeds Friday eve confusion.
No canned
heat and no coke to wash away
this growing
season of tombs and monuments,
that disturb
our dreams and forget the great
times – like
Ovid in his sorry exile:
back when
all had wicked chops!
--
notes
Saint Paul is the focus
Ovid - the poet who was sent into exile somewhere on the Black Sea coast
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