you were nineteen then. coaxing a

blonde fender to sing under heated lights,

maybe you thought you were

holding the world in your hands

, the day your james taylor voice came

pouring from the radio (local was as

far as you got)

maybe you had a dream then. /the cynicism

came with time/

it lies dead&forgotten in

your right hand desk drawer. you don't remember, do you?

but though it died

and thirty years have buried it,

your pipe dream survives in that song and in

me.