In The Pocket

While your guitar gently weeps

mine walks from rung to rung

on the nether clef

filling a space

between the drums and

whatever else there is

if it’s done right

it’s almost not there

conscience does

the same thing

minor thirds

fourths half diminished

we don’t flat our fifths

we drink them

my bass has never lied

never tried to fool me

just plays back what I tell it to

and if I try any funny stuff

she warns me with a fuzzy sound

that makes my fingers burn

so that you and that guitar of yours

can walk in my footprints