Down Main Street,
Where I bought my first guitar
And left my soft hands
On the counter
Where they cracked
And learned
And were screwed back onto me
Down Main Street
Where I found smoke
And shaking legs beneath
Where my belly grew
And beasts circled
To poke and prod
Examining me
For anything but
To understand
Down Main Street
Where the broken minds roam
To Looney Park
To find what they “lost”
Or what’s lost in them
And return,
Empty-minded
With only tears in their hands
Down Main Street
Where the wind breaks sound
And claps me to the sidewalk
As my hands shake
And my arms wail
From this guitar case;
Old and weak
And used
And an old part of me
That I found
Down Main Street