Andy Roberts
monk’s melody
you dreamed yourself to sleep with
solo piano now the horns come in
off minor little melody you wasted
time with round midnight seems to be
the way strings pull you of dream and
back a yoyo well you needn’t a crepuscule
for nellie you couldn’t get to sleep with
a bullet to the brain a bible maybe
monk’s mood was not a dream disorder
making notes for various descending
chromatic ladder runs to nowhere now
it’s over says the sax it’s over go to sleep
mans game
boats and gunner icefishing day after
namath beat unitas super bowl two
fucking hippies playing football boats
cracks a miller gunner hooks a northern
kills pint of bourbon nothing left but
six of miller boats sees namath running
off field index wagging football used to
mean something have some class now
gunner lights his last cigar thinking shoulda
brought another six at least we got good
ice that’s something boats runs a good
shack out here for sure
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