How many notes to self can you take?
A road nobody drives for pleasure.
Scan the dial for something
sung in drawl. Get out & walk.

The older you get, the fewer options
still tempt you: the wet membranes through which
light enters our heads versus the eardrum,
coins in a fountain versus coins in a jar.
And if you want to feel every note
you find a desert, even one small as a banjo head
or unreachable as the moon.
You go to a tattoo shop
& ask them to take dictation
on the parchment of your arm.
Don’t try to explain.
This isn’t that kind of trip.

0 Replies to “Notes”

  1. I like this, especially how it returns to “notes to self” and all the ways it can be read.

    I’m glad to see another banjo poem, as I’ve really enjoyed the series. I thought about these poems when I saw a banjolele–a ukelele-sized and -tuned banjo. I guess it’s what happens when banjos head off to paradise.

    1. Yes, there seems to be a bit of banjo ukelele cross-over these days. I am not sure that’s entirely a good thing…

      I have my doubts about the banjo series, too, as a matter of fact, but I do hope to keep plunking away at it. Glad you’re reading.

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