My old friend Erik B. wrote this fabulous sonnet about ROX and stuff.
In Blooming Town a young man cast his fate
A TV show he’d wring from force of will
For lighting rigs and soundboards he’d not wait
His friends and he demanded not a frillThe substance of the thing, aye there’s the rub
And substances and larks they’d oversee
But then one went toward mounts, one toward the hub
Of Cath’lic tweaks, and gaslit warm-night spreesOne day this gas and warmth plied atmosphere
The land was smote, its people were made sick
A man, impelled, returned to help rebuild
And try his hand at civic rhetoricAnother one he’s brought into the show
She’ll walk in footsteps, wander, learn, and grow
Discover more from b.rox
Subscribe to get the latest posts sent to your email.