Bless you, I say
to the boy practicing
his Cordoba notes
sneezing in the midst of
guitar class
and goddess worship.
Chord progression fuses
veering off into
AC/DC and the Stones
“…painted black...”
Music beating down
the day's static monotony
overflowing into the halls
invading art class
prodding tomorrow's poetry gurus
to mourn after
Monet's landscapes
or Dominguez's history
And a little Deep Purple
then the 6 o'clock news
harks of the demise
of the National Endowment for the Arts
and the National Endowment for the Humanities
“All we are is dust....”
and I wonder
where do tiny blessings fly
when the world drifts dark?
About the Creator
Lana Broussard
Lana Broussard writes primarily under the pen name, L.T. Garvin. She writes fiction, poetry, essays, and humor. She is the author of Confessions of a 4th Grade Athlete, Animals Galore, The Snjords, and Dancing with the Sandman.
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