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


©2009 Eric Lawson