Austin-Bergstrom International Airport

Too early for music (live
or streamed or recorded or
dead). Neon lit

guitars above the roadhouse bar.
Coffee poured not Mexican
martinis. They’re everywhere here—

guitars. I still remember
the lesson you gave me. I got G
but not C. But nobody cared. We laughed

our heads off
as the bus rolled down

a Connecticut turnpike. Still too early
this morning in Austin
to replay it aloud.

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