I’m All Ears

I fret that all the possible songs have been written already.

I fret that all the possible rhymes have been found already.

I fret that all that can be played has been heard already.

I fret because I sit alone, untuned, unstrummed, with threadbare strings.

I fret that all possible life has been lived already.

I fret that all the possible mates have partnered already.

I fret that all there is has become obsolete already.

I fret because I am alone, marooned, unsung, on box springs.

Perhaps there are rhymes out there unspoken.

And songs still unwritten.

And performances yet need to be heard.

Perhaps I need to shut up and listen.

***

[FROM THE ARTIST FORMERLY KNOWN AS DR. SEMICOLON]