“Eddie Van Halen possessed the fingers that launched a hundred-thousand air-guitar solos.” Chris Willman
Air Man His hair dishevelled, pelvis thrust, manic eyes, a demented look, flaying the air for Strats and Gibs, if anyone saw him he'd raise some laughs. He's a veteran at twenty, he's played the Isle, been twice to Woodstock and Glastonbury, he knows all the licks and Townsend's kicks, his heart soars as he climbs the breaks. Crescendo comes and he's in the zone, it courses his body and numbs his mind, takes him away from his daily grief, the household where no-one loves. Copyright 2022 ©Paul Vincent Cannon All Rights Reserved ®️
parallax 
I wasn’t expecting that somber ending.
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Ah, yes, a twist, a deliberate shift in mood, thank you for sharing the affect for you Liz.
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You’re welcome, Paul.
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So much pain.
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Yes, he struggles to face it too it seems.
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Been there.
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Aha, did you enter a comp?
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It’s been a while.
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Ah, if you don’t use it …..
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Reblogged this on NEW BLOG HERE >> https:/BOOKS.ESLARN-NET.DE.
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Thank you 🙂
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The ending sounds a little bit sad, but life not always gifts the best. xx Michael
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No, so true, and in this man’s case, he uses his passion to cover the pain, seen so many like him. Thank you Michael.
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Great poem
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Thank you.
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