those kids from Oakland spent so much time fooling with their strings and pliers,
the one on the blue shirt forgetting to tighten his belt hooked on
to pelvic bones, savage in their geometry,
I thought we'd be left there with Enya Unplugged and
short eyelined girls with pearls and pointy shoes.
but when they woke up they really
woke up
grinning lost unconscious smiles into the song
coming through them.
two open-throated guitars
singing to each other.
at 10.47pm in Sacramento they became
and we became
and I became calm
thinking
a guitar
was the only sure route to reality.
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