The Black Guitar by Paul Henry (and an update)

[joe_pike_junior]

The Black Guitar

Clearing out ten years from a wardrobe
I opened its lid and saw Joe
written twice in its dust, in a child's hand,
then a squiggled seagull or two.

Joe, Joe
a man's tears are worth nothing,
but a child's name in the dust, or in the sand
of a darkening beach, that's a life's work.

I touched two strings, to hear how much
two lives can slip out of tune

then I left it,
brought down the night on it, for fear, Joeof hearing your unbroken voice, or the sea
if I played it.

Commentary here.

Also, an update. I moved on Saturday (ie, a week ago yesterday), and I haven't had the internet put on yet. Things are hectic and loud and noisy and awesome. Someone here has their wireless unsecured, so that's what I'm using at the moment. If I sit at one end of the lounge I can get enough to load a page or send an email occasionally. Better than traveling to use library wireless. I can't really do much online, though, because I don't want to be an arsehole and use up somebody else's internet. Almost every internet plan has extortionate installation fees. What else? I have a job interview tomorrow (hopefully). It's been really hot the last few days but it rained today (the day after I bought a fan). You really notice traffic noise if you've lived in the bush before that.

I hope you're all well.