THE BLUESTERS STILL SING

the solitude to be with you

is too alone for two

and three too many in this age of nuclear

where most applications are turndowns

simple to decipher as Morse

dinosaurs thought the same

how they tromped the world

made messes out of anthills

believed double brains

heads I win tails you lose

and it ever was and will be

tomorrow we will eat

but from which end

today the polar caps melt

not move inexorable in desert

I find us alone and crying

give us cold cold vid music

and bury our bones to be found

by future bluesters’ woeful sounds