The Man with the Blue Guitar

His blue guitar is lacquered so brightly when he leans a certain way into his song I can see my head in my hands reflected. And when he leans back into the emotion of another chorus his guitar returns to blue: the blue of unboiled lobsters fading to a general Biro-lid blue and with a patina of fine tiger stripes the color of sky midway towards a springtime horizon. I’ve had a long time to consider this. The man with the blue guitar has a little tin for his plectrums, with a cartoon pelican on its lid, standing on top of the words “Pelican Throat Lozenges.” Between songs he tells me that he found it in the abandoned house from the song. Which song? My next song. It’s called “The Abandoned House.” The man with the blue guitar reads his lyrics from a special leather book where he has written all his lyrics. Sometimes he forgets the words and searches the page as he plays, his face scrunching as he sings new noises in their place. I prefer the noises.This song is called Halloween Moon this song is called Lovesick Bougainvillea this song is called Bourbon Canal this song is called St. Michael’s Boots My Cousin’s Old Coat The Wrestler’s Arm The Old Arm Wrestler Dead Man’s Stetson Panama Morning The Skulls of the Cathedral Lawn Shadow in the Gully in the Foothills of My Youth My Heart Is a Love Letter the Folds Are Worn Through.