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Quit school, got myself a job March 16, 2017

Posted by vsap in Blogroll, Poetry, Uncategorized.
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I could quit school and get a job

but at sixty-two I suppose it doesn’t matter.

You could imagine me another lazy slob,

with no ambition, falling from the corporate ladder.

Metal rock was my drug and country music my antidote,

playing clubs weekends with guys half my age

didn’t stop me from hearing the songs I wrote

but playing covers paid the bills, Journey all the rage.

Then I went from being “Dad” to bad grandpa

and I was playing acoustic gigs at wayside coffee shops.

I was listening to good bluegrass and took up chaw

and these kids were no pikers, they know their chops.

So I drifted out to Bakersfield looking for low-hanging fruit

but couldn’t find any and I made my way to Marin

of a mind to find a niche in the obtuse Sausalito truth,

taking a place in the Gold Spike Trio with a toothy grin.

After a year I began thinking about Seattle, maybe Portland.

I left bluegrass for a brief stint in nineties grunge.

Soon I was doing acoustic again, mid-weeks at Laurelthrist,

never catching the Cobain bug, feeling like a glass sponge

so I sold my Fender and amp putting my Martin DRSG first.

Hitching my wagon to soft ballads and edgy Dylan covers

with inattentive audiences the money flowed in easy.

The coffee was strong and all the women were my lovers.

It was all I could do to keep a straight face, not feel cheesy,

with all that “no, no, no, it ain’t me, babe,” like I meant it.

By a miracle I lasted more than two years and found a day job,

driving a TriMet bus and working on a sixty-six Chevelle model kit,

I was beginning to feel normal, not just another lazy slob.

But, I guess at sixty-nine it really doesn’t matter

why I quit school to get myself a job.

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