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Poem Details  

Title: Hendrix
Author: Mario Vitale
Date Submitted: 8/25/2017

 
Poem: Headphones bleed
From the chords I believe
Were struck by the master…
The master of hands…
Of ”Ladyland”, electric
A vinyl worth the weight
Of three bricks of gold
For its’ platinum sold, and-
I could never trade that thrill
That marrow bristling chill
For a sack of dollar bills
On e-bay’s net exchange
For I may be old and strange
But am not that far deranged
And, ahhhh…the jagged mid-range tone
Sweet and smooth like sculpted stone
Before the days of cellular phones
When Jimi blew my Fosgate cones-
In acoustical bliss
With a mind-chasing hiss
Like a Boa or Cobra


Twang-god for all seasons
Of titanium tweeter domes
Disturbed watts and ohms...