Tweet
I bumped into Dudley Moore
while getting out of a limo
in New York City,
I was removing an
1865 C.F. Martin guitar of mine,
with a skeleton key lock
hand-pegged coffin case,
and was not paying attention
to who was behind me.
He said, 'Ello, excuse me.
and smiled widely,
as I apoligized briefly,
never reaizing who he was.
My girlfriend told me
a few minutes later,
just exactly who I'd
brushed elbows with.
The guitar is gone now,
sold to some
collecter of time,
Dudley is gone too,
time collected him.
They both lie somewhere
in the darkness
of a coffin case.
Icons of the 19th and
20th century,
one covered in dust,
while the other
tragically becomes it.
Matthew F. Blowers III
while getting out of a limo
in New York City,
I was removing an
1865 C.F. Martin guitar of mine,
with a skeleton key lock
hand-pegged coffin case,
and was not paying attention
to who was behind me.
He said, 'Ello, excuse me.
and smiled widely,
as I apoligized briefly,
never reaizing who he was.
My girlfriend told me
a few minutes later,
just exactly who I'd
brushed elbows with.
The guitar is gone now,
sold to some
collecter of time,
Dudley is gone too,
time collected him.
They both lie somewhere
in the darkness
of a coffin case.
Icons of the 19th and
20th century,
one covered in dust,
while the other
tragically becomes it.
Matthew F. Blowers III
Comment