Mall Musician
By sweetbrother
He tries-Oh, Lord, he tries.He's hunched over his keyboardin the shadow of our city'sbig stone shaftand he triesjazzy battle hymnswhile the Republic files past,mostly oblivious.But now and then, a casual dollar or coindrops into his bucket, and he plays onOne liquid young womanpassively sits and listensor rests, or waitsthen leaves.As the same song ends each timethere is no pause for applause;none is given.To this audience, he's a sight, a scenelike birds and trees and stately pilesof weathered graniteThis mob strolling past is perhapstoo sated, too drunkon the colors of spring treesto notice this minor attractionHe finishes 'Pennies from Heaven' with a flourish.A ponytailed child claps with gleeand the mall musician seems satisfied. Written November 27th, 2001 © on Nov 27 2001 06:34 AM PST 0 • 10
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"He tries-Oh, Lord, he tries.He's hunched over his keyboardin the shadow of our city'sbig stone shaftand he triesjazzy battle hymnswhile the Republic files past,mostly oblivious.But now and then, a casual dollar or coindrops into his bucket, and he plays onOne liquid young womanpassively sits and listensor rests, or waitsthen leaves.As the same song ends each timethere is no pause for applause;none is given.To this audience, he's a sight, a scenelike birds and trees and stately pilesof weathered graniteThis mob strolling past is perhapstoo sated, too drunkon the colors of spring treesto notice this minor attractionHe finishes 'Pennies from Heaven' with a flourish.A ponytailed child claps with gleeand the mall musician seems satisfied...."