The beginning so revolutionary
the middle so … how do you say?
Filled up with silt
like Lake Pontchatrain.
For ten years the book
was open to the same page.
For nine it seemed
it would turn.
It was a sure thing that
one of them would realize
as soon as the decade
was over it would be over.
The bluesman played only
in keys of C and G
until he transposed it all
into D and E.
His wife had heard it all
the cliche’s and the riffs.
She gave him an ultimatum
and sealed it with a kiss.
When it comes around again
say what ask why
the lake is full of barbeque
the music full of sky.
When it comes around again
hang your head and cry
didn’t the soul need a change?
won’t the brain even try?
mrsorenson's verses 