With a Martin guitar

tucked under his arm,

he put one foot in front of the other.

Hungry for love.

all he saw was white on white,

no food or drink, just words

that became stars.

He lost his love and job,

wanted to slash his wrists,

or open a brothel, sampling

women, one at a time.

He wore a bowler hat,

ran away in his underwear

from ullulating foes,

rode a stone lion across

the Mongolian steppes.

Now the brilliant stars

of Miles and Trane,

Mingus the Monk

and Art Tatum lit his way.

Finally in his own skin,

in the only home he’s got.