Saturday, April 3, 2010

Poem- Robert Johnson and me

Robert Johnson is not happy.
You just phoned it in he says
Meeting your deadline, he says
a word he does not like.

Look, I say, it was tough,
My wife was sick, I was the one,
people depended on me
to get things done.

Robert Johnson snorts,
Yeah, Sure was tough
You got hanged, you got beat?
people spat at you in the street?

For me, he says, it was rough,
You don't know you're alive, and here I am dead.
Dont give me that
"it was tough" line.

Robert, I say, I know it was hard,
and how bad it was.
But for me in this time
I had to prioritize

He isn't listening, he says
If I had given in, if I had been a quitter
I'd have been killed quicker
It was in me and I had to let it out.

I say, I did what I had to, to get by
I could not allow me to fail.
But Robert Johnson accepts no soothing,
he is on my trail


ifthethunderdontgetya™³²®© said...


P.S. Never drink from an offered bottle that has already been opened.

Smut Clyde said...

You just phoned it in he says

Ignore the hostile comment threads, AK. They are just h8rz.

mikey said...

Seems to me that there's nothing, not one little thing wrong with phoning in a work of poetry. That is, I suppose, as long as the party on the other end is willing to transcribe it.

Indeed, in the long-forgotten misty past before the series of tubes connected glowing boxes, much text, albeit primarily journalistic in nature, was provided for publication in precisely this fashion.

Nope. Phoning it in does not constitute a negative value judgement in this case.

Please carry on...

fish said...

Nice. Not sure why a Canadian handballer is giving you shit though. First, it's handball, and second, the dude came in eleventh. How many handball teams go to the Olympics? Six?

Jennifer said...

A phone call is better than no call at all.