Some old guy named Keats br Keeps singing in my ear br Lilting melodies of long lost lore br br While Byron and Shelley br Croon their bitter br Sweet harmonies of love br br Rappin’ on my shotgun sensibilities br Modern improprieties shod with lust and gore and br Bloody insatiable war br br Hard-assed verbiage too rank br To hold a purity that harkens br To a simpler time br br A simpler place br A simpler way br Of being br br But don’t let me go, boys br The tuning in and out of syncopated time br Spans eons of dreaming nights br br Till a new heart burns with the hearing br Of an ancient voice br In an ever-ripening world. br br br (Previously published in Art Villa, Aug.