On her trip, she bought a baggy t-shirt at a thrift shop. Being the resident movie/book/music encyclopedia, she had asked me while she was gone if I had heard of Gregory Alan Isakov.
There’s nothing the policewoman can do. My witness is the cloudless sky, and I know he’ll lie about it.
The wash of sea set a score, emanating from the base of high cliffs. I hoisted a pack and travel guitar, and made my way toward town.
Sailing hard for ten hours, we ploughed our way into a lee at the mouth of a river, a sailors’ safe haven for centuries.
“It’s love sickness, sir.” I wanted to respond. “A bad case.”
Nearly all the bands are new to me. The Decembrists. Pond. Sons Of Bill. Natalie Prass. Africa Express. Most of the songs are kind to my ears. And then, the final track.
A Michael Leach limerick recalls a precious moment.
before I left, I walked up to the boy and told him his music was divine; I was proud to have him with me.
Micheal Leach joins the dots between Elvis, Florence + The Machine, and the Graceland exhibition at Bendigo Art Gallery (which concluded on 17 July 2022).
Michael Leach pens a limerick about a Superjesus guitar pick.