Hooked on Bluegrass

e e cummings


you give us Things
bulge: lonesome grunting lungs pumped full of sharp thick mind
and memory of cabins crumbling

you make us trill
presents always
shut in the sumptuous wail of
and: the cadence of the eight-string magic

(out of the
black unbunged
Something gushes vaguely a squeak of planes

between the cobbles of Flatt runs
and walks
Nothing grabbed with circular aabb tightness
solid screams whisper across dusty land and tarnished scrapper.)
Lumberman of The Distinct

your brain's
axe only chops hugest inherent
Trees of Ego, gargantuan and legendary,
Sharpened in dim-lit highway trundling, town-to-town from
whose living and biggest

bodies lopped
of every
made sumptuous in homely acolade

you hew form truly
truer than all the imitators

(posted 9/9/2012)

[Note: This is one of several “hooked” stories from creative CBA’ers who have imagined how a historical figure might have become engaged with bluegrass, if he/she had had that opportunity.]

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