The Wave

While working on someone else’s work
strictly for my pocket’s improvement

I’ve been thinking all day of
cresting a deep drone tone

played on a dark electric guitar
as if it were a wave far out at sea

racing toward land overnight
across the whole of an ocean

moving toward the shore of a stage
where it will break

and alter everyone in attendance
with a drench of black sound

I don’t know how to create it
and from guilt over things undone

I’ve touched no guitar today to try and learn
But tomorrow — come tomorrow

I’ll put in less time on someone’s job
and bettering my normalcy

Instead will surf the deep ocean
riding the imperceptible wave in my ears

from origin to end to see what comes with it
from abyssal depth or strange port

as if I were a brave sailor and not
a prosaic and mundane slump of a man

worried about bills and chest pains
to the exclusion of making the music I’m here to make

along with words to ride the wave
all the way 
over the shelves of shore

into the high tide line
so everyone there gasps and says

they were glad to be present when it came
to be present for such a sound

About Tony Brown

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

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