Sunday 12th April



Move through the city early, keeping to cut-throughs,
Back-streets, subsidiary canals, lead by our eyes &
Intuition, drawn to shiny stuff, thrill, buzz, visual clues,
Remembering 30+ years ago, cruising, penniless,
Bread, cheese & rucksacks, wide-eyed, scared & thrilled.
The years & the heavy weight of misplaced responsibilities
That have come between us, made us crawl close to the
Ground, imitating worker ants not people excited to be
Alive. Standing straight now, smiling, the unfamiliar sound
Of laughter spilling random from our mouths, a robot stare
Replaced by flickering stars of light, we walk, hold hands,
Dance through the cut-throughs, back-streets & alleyways,
Remembering that this is our natural habitat, the path less

Visited my friends at Rebel Relic Guitar, shook hands,
Smiled, caught up, smelled that sweet wood smell & wires,
Like when we were kids, sniffing second hand four-by-twelves,
Fresh from the road, carrying the scars of it, the fabulous
Stench of it, sweat, beer, petrol & fag smoke, names of
Legends stencilled in white to their backs, oh how I ached
To own one touch one, know someone who played through
One! Here at Rebel Relic ignited by that same thrill, handing
Over cash for another set of ’54 Telecaster pickups, like I’m
7 years old again. At the Stedelijk Museum we queue to enter,
One-by-one the belly of Barney’s Beanery, a bar I’ve drunk in
Many times, but never slipped deep into the throat of it’s
Art installation twin that’s been waiting for us here since that
First time we arrived, dirty from that cheap train ride, bread
& wine, rain soaked tent rolled up forever at the bottom of the
Sack. I was shocked to find Ed’s Beanery twin in this back room,
Beckoning, turned to you, 30 years later,
“I want to take you for a drink in LA”


One thought on “Sunday 12th April

  1. Two hours surfing at data highway’s-it feels today like a waterfall of sickness over my head,hope a shower make me feel better again.
    Apropos rebel relic-you know tme soft nudetone guitar’s?
    Play that sweet instrument,it turn’s you higher than every drink.
    Said s. with a little smile.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.