For The Next Guy

one day
when I’m dying
I’ll say, long live
liberation.  I’ll say,
it’s good to relax.  

one day
I’ll realize in a flash
I’ll never 
step to the stagefront
bearing a flaming Gibson
and play a solo like something 
Robert Johnson forgot to offer
and Jimi left out of his will — I’ve got it 
in my head even now — 
but it will never happen.

when that happens 
I’ll say,

that’s enough, micro-
man, little
squeeze of flesh, tiny handed
mollycoddled
dumbass refusal to bend — 

and in response I hope
the world will say
it’s OK, Tony,
we know it was all you’ve got.
if after all this struggle 
you have anything left in your bag
it’s probably lint 
and there’s already enough of that
to go around.  

shuffle off, now. don’t forget 
to put that guitar back on the stand

for the next guy.

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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

2 responses to “For The Next Guy

  • Léa

    Mais oui monsieur!

  • Eileen

    we all cling to hope
    we can pass it on…….
    .leave something…..
    .a whiff even of
    ashes riding the wind….
    it doesn’t really matter .
    we don’t just disappear…..
    we split into a million
    imperceptible shooting stars..
    faster than the speed of light
    bouncing back off
    the edges of the universe…..
    what a ride!

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