You're A Long Way From Home (part 2) - TISM

From the guitar in his hands

A nightmarish C-chord struggles, then dies at birth

Roadies trained for years in loyal rescue stand arms crossed side of stage,

like paramedics unmoved by misery

His 90 words per minute fingers try again

Only the loudness of the PA prevents him hearing the dull jeering that began

after the first song

Beyond the stage lights, the darkness seems ready to throw itself forward and

smother him

This stage is the barren hill upon which ancient mothers left children to die

The journalist hitches the guitar strap up on his shoulder

For years now his critical mastery of the rock genre has fuelled prose of

unrelenting acuteness

Yet, who would have thought these instruments would be so heavy?

He looks in confused despair at the six strings

Longing for the safe complexity of his computer monitor and a QWERTY keyboard

At last, a justified arc of glass and beer swings in its gleeful parabola

towards his head

Later, in hospital, he seems to remember sensing the stubby’s weight before it

broke upon the finally explained sensibilities of his skin

«You're a long way from home, journo boy»