to all I admire
and feel a desire
profound to acquire.
The one qualifier
for that to transpire
is that I enquire
and be an applier.
The trier must try
and be tried by the fire,
mired in muck
and stuck by the briar.
Let the tears roll,
suck your fortifier.
Call a ceasefire
and string your barbed wire.
Peace pacifier
that great rectifier
gives new resolve
in you now entire.
Shout advance with a choir
and beating drums dire
swelling higher and higher.
Intensifiers!
Plug in your wire
to your amplifier.
Now strum to become
a dream occupier
Oh yeah, and make sure you tuned it first ... Oh, it is? ... Um, well, keep after it!
A funny note: After I'd written this poem I was reminded of a funny story. I got my first guitar and amplifier at the age of fourteen. I would play it loud and long in the basement in all its distorted poorly tuned glory. A few neighborhood women performing periodic visits with my mother complained to her that it sounded like I was torturing a cat, and she should maybe consider getting me some help
Oh, and on subsequent visits they also complained that I could not sing either, and for the love of all that's holy I should stop doing it - hilarious!
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