by Glen Martin Fitch
Just stop and listen.
Don't you have some song or other
all day running 'round your brain?
Why THAT tune?
Each one driving me insane.
Some dawns I think:
"Did THAT go all night long?"
And worse yet,
there are voices in my head.
"You dassen't do that!"
How she'd pinch my ear!
"A nigger might have touched it."
I still hear my grandma shout again,
though long since dead.
And I confess
I hear your voice as well.
I'm thinking thoughts
I'm sure that are my own
but hear them spoken
in your rhythm, tone.
I'm glad.
I guess it's just part of your spell.
My life is moral,
sound and never dull
while you are living
rent free in my skull.
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ABOUT THE POET ~
Glen Fitch is a 16th Century poet lost in the 21st Century. Born near Niagara Falls, educated in the Catskills, thirty years on the Monterey Bay he now lives in Palm Springs. Retail not academics has paid the bills. Someday he will finish Spenser's "The Fairie Queene."
Last updated August 23, 2011