The Natural

 

The natural street-musician will follow you once 

you have dropped a coin into the hat. Because

the cloying mountain of minds

 

presses in, because of frailty. 

Because the airy mind is frail. The street-musician

says, "Examine your pride, 

examine yourself—I am not the government."

 

You say, "To my mind, I have not gone enough 

to concerts, to enough bars to enough 

of those corners necessary to shake

the follow and the following." 

 

"The mind and the air 

need each other," he counters, 

"as governance slides from stone 

to brick. Look outside—idylls and fanfares

 

have blended into a bath-warm middle—you 

are being followed and, I suspect, learning 

about how the mind of an entertainer 

functions. That that hive 

is no government of stone."