originally published 2010
We are the traveling salesmen of verse
We have been quietly washed in by
Twilight’s tide and shall make
Our exit by the same mysterious
Means before the piercing dawn
We artfully dissect your town’s
Charm and personality and turn
Them into accessible mythic fables
That is if it moves and behooves us
We require more wine, women, and
Wanton wonders to appease we, the
Vessels of the mischievous Muse
We bring you wisdom, laughter,
Fire and brimstone, and oh-so-sultry
Lines designed to melt even the
Coldest of unromantic hearts
We herald the births of new eras
Gestating, and yet to come forth
So when the donation hat makes
Its way around to you, my friends
Please tip generously and often
For a happy poet needs only food,
Clothing, shelter, and bus fare to the
Next venue of soul-bearing bards
We have wanderlust in our very bones
The call of the open road beckons us
Rest now, my darlings
We will describe it all to you
Upon our return
From your wildest dreams
12/29/09
©2009 Eric Lawson
