First post and a new poem

Well Howdi
So here goes nothing
and I must say I am pretty darn good at nothing.
Welcome to Muskrat, he's small, furry, opinionated, likes his music and books and his garden and the what not...  Right now the sausage is burning on the stove top and the screen door is hanging off its hinges begging for attention but that will have to wait for another day.  As for now here's a new poem or two rather that I feel pretty satisfied with at the current moment.  But you know how it goes, what is life without constant revision.

The poets hands listening intently to Philip Glass playing six piano Etudes

Folded hands framed by creased blue jeans

Silhouetted against the darkness

Illuminated lines and veins

Fingers, three outstretched

Cross hatched charcoal shading techniques

Adopted by fingers at rest

Stark and lonesome like the faces in Walker Evans

Depression era photographs

These hands have seen the trouble

Lightning Hopkins gin soaked voice preached

And they have seen such beauty

Play piano on a Tuesday evening

Applause

An orchestra of hands collaborating between compositions

To compose a Philip Glass symphony

The musician framed in

by a stark Japanese brushstroke

a lonesome microphone stand

behind the arched back of the pianist

simple and black and linear

his arms crossing to strike a low note

I hope you enjoy and more poems, ramblings, reviews of music and ideas and books and the such to come as my mind spits them out...  

As always solidarity forever, and be safe and ride free