Beneath an all night blanket
blues, barefoot in the attic rooms,
side one of Beggars Banquet
blooms and, in the static hum,
.
summoning my Nicky Hopkins
(juju, voodoo, déjà vu): my sole,
rising, falling. The carpet drums.
I woo the other Rolling Stones.
.
But someone seems to be missing.
By the kettle in the kitchen;
strumming, no one cares to listen,
the one and lonely, Brian Jones.
I’m a Rolling Stone fan! Got to hear them in concert here in mid Missouri on our campus twice.
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🎸
“Poetry is rock n roll by other means”
– Anon. x
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I love this poetic tribute to The Rolling Stones!
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Thanks Liz!
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You’re welcome, Nick!
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