ODE TO GLENN JONES.
As if being friends with Fahey -
forlornly strutting through the American dust
holding hands with Mother India,
in perfect matrimony with Father Silence
(being the exhale and inhale of the music)
playing your music both in cellars damp with obscurity
and with exuberance on the roof of the world
is not enough:
There is also this,
As if being multilingual -
though not multilexical but multitonal,
and proving that there is a little bit of Swedish,
a thorough hint of German,
a noble flicker of Japanese,
and the efficacy of America,
(among others)
in Everything;
Traveling the world without gasoline
a heart pumping blood solely on gusto,
whatever that is -
is not enough:
There is also this:
A dream made of cardboard,
and,
as always,
the waking up.
