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!
Saint Paul is the focus
Ovid - the poet who was sent into exile somewhere on the Black Sea coast