The Luthier

On the sand, he sat

and croaked,

swallowing a cloud

of smoke.

He stroked his beard

without a sound,

cloaked like Moses

on the mount.

He strummed along

in 3/4 time

with bongo drums,

some fills of mine.

Acid, Molly, Ketamine,

A jolly bit of sorcery.

The waters rushed

and brushed his feet,

but I jumped back

to keep mine neat.

We'd meant to watch

the rising sun,

but cold set in,

which wasn't fun.

The SUV was almost here

we piled on the curb

the luthier tuned my instrument

not saying a word.

'I'll fix it for you'

he said at last

his first attempt at speech

'you know', he said,

and shook his head,

'you shouldn't take this

to the beach'

Author's Note

Very rough, I'm too lazy to make it more elaborate

Reviews

[Ifreakinloveyou]

I actually like this way it is....it makes you think the way it's written. I liked the way you describe the music he plays and how you capture the irony of his character.