June 7, 2015
The Bluesman
by Charlie Monte Verde
He makes you think; he stumps you; and makes you think again.
The bluesman is from Kansas City, and J-Ville and Brooklyn.
He’s seen it all, but not in a way to comprehend.
The bluesman has children, on purpose or otherwise,
And he cares in a way we can’t comprehend.
The bluesman will play whatever you request, but make it good.
The bluesman…the bluesman stops, and looks down, and slides some chords…if you ask for too much.
“Here’s one by Muddy Waters. Actually it’s Robert Johnson, but Muddy played it in Clarksdale. I was there.”
Get him going on Robert Johnson. He’ll never stop.
The bluesman was there.
The bluesman was always there;
Him, or Diddley, or Muddy, or Stevie or Clapton.
The bluesman doesn’t cover songs;
The bluesman conveys oral history.
He plays it with a slide, and he plays it with soul, and he keeps playing even after you turn your back.
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