The Last Psychedelic Band

The last psychedelic
band is gone
the tye dye and
thai sticks and their failed
though brave notion
of peace (the idea that bliss means
jamming out and letting go)
gone with them.
But a million groups
take their place
heed their call
playing druggy bass
lines over techno beats
struggling with their
this wash of cables
fiber optics
transmissions through the ether
Their solace comes
from the belief that they can
control something most
canít even touch.


He plays his music
on a guitar with twigs
holding the strings in place
at the bridge.
he strums broken
chords with dimes
bummed from strangers
who dig his Jesus sandals
and the little wilted
flowers tucked in
to the footstrap.

His songs feature blues
progressions, winding tales
of the places heís been
benches where heís
dumpsters heís dived
into in search of food
and clothes to keep him
warm through Michigan
winters. But sometimes
itís hard to find him
because he never stays
at the same park
or shelter
for long
so those folks
that follow his music
must search the city
till they find him,
that man whose songs
make the way
they live seem
normal, if only
for a minute

John Abbott is a writer, musician, and English instructor who lives with his wife and daughter in Kalamazoo, Michigan. His stories and poems have appeared or are forthcoming in The Potomac Review, Georgetown Review, Chiron Review, Arcadia, Underground Voices, Atticus Review, upstreet, Tipton Poetry Journal, and many others. He recently completed his first book of poems. For more information about his writing, please visit www.johnabbottauthor.com

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