I remember (once) stringing my Strat with nylon

Then I turned the twin reverb on:
no magnetics, no sound
but great action

My friend Pete played so loud
we bought him a number 11 jersey

Vovo would pan for seeds down
inclined album covers

Sara would flick ashes onto her jeans
and rub it in to add wear

And Bob Smith (true name)
stole my Sunn concert lead amp-head and
my Zimgar conga shells
that I bought from Benitez
in the early ’70s; old-Robby
one morning vacated the house we
used for practice

S**thead couldn’t even keep a beat

Chagall 2019

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