Snowman in the Sidecar of a Motorcycle

For the starving minstrel.

I have seen the dead and dying,
The personless open-mic Sunday nights,
The musicians playing to bar stools and dust.

And I have seen the dead and dying,
The free-form empty death,
The poets shouting to themselves.

And I have seen the dead and dying,
The stocked-shelf wasteland,
The authors composing messages in bottles.

And I have seen the dead and dying,
The future furniture outlets,
The homeless artists with homeless art.

And I have seen,
The dead and dying,
The lack of fervor,
The unwillingness to listen.
Ladies and gentlemen, may I introduce to you,
The inimitable,
The lethargic,
The self-obsessed,

Us! Crickets.

~-~