I knew a man.
He played guitar for change.
I’d buy him this and that.
So he wouldn’t be
too cold and hungry.

I knew a man.
Who informed me that
beer is liquid bread.
This wisdom passed onto me.

I knew a man.
Who was kicked off
the white church steps.
Because Christ
would have done the same.

I knew a man.
Whose guitar got stolen.
And couldn’t play for change.
So, we got him a new one.

His songs were generally
one chord but
once he recorded an album.
And only few in town has it.
Cherished like the Ark of the covenant.

I sat at his funeral.
His family flooded the home.
His casket looked bare
without his guitar.

***

Image by InspiredImages from Pixabay

Adam Church

Adam Church grew up and resides in the DC Metro suburbs in Virginia. He has been published in The Battered Suitcase and will be published in the winter issue of the Chiron Review. His literary influences include Billy Collins and Charles Bukowski and his lyrical influences are in the realm of folk, blues, punk and alternative music.