December 20, 2004

mi guitarra familiar

By Tony Brown

I see it
in the dim corner
of the room

strung with
heavy weight
shiny brass

there are scars on the neck
where the choker goes for
giving a song a new voice

the dark wear and slipshod binding on
its ovals and holes and curves
and the head like a bat’s wing opening

this sinister beauty is
enough itself
to stand alone

so what am I to it?
I am no instrument
no mover of air

truly neither singer nor song
neither cheers nor applause
just the rack that holds it up

when it has settled
into silence
I put it down

and lie awake thinking:
I am not music
enough for her

About Tony Brown

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A poet with a history in slam, lots of publications; my personal poetry and a little bit of daily life and opinions. Read the page called "About..." for the details. View all posts by Tony Brown
This entry was posted on Monday, December 20th, 2004 at 2:13 pm and posted in uncategorized. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed.

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