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This writing was accepted for publication in the 108 page perfect-bound ISSN# / ISBN# issue/book “the Blind Eye” cc&d (v265) (the September/October 2016 issue, v265) You can also order this 6"x9" issue as a paperback book:

Order this writing in the book the Chamber (the 2016 poetry, flash fiction, prose & artwork anthology)		get the 420 page poem, flash fiction & prose collection / anthology as a 6" x 9" ISBN# paperback book:

Order this writing in the book After the Blues the cc&d July-Dec. 2016 collection book		get the 318 page July-Dec. 2016 cc&d magazine issue collection 6" x 9" ISBN# paperback book:

Seven Chords

A.S. Coomer

I tried to talk with the covers singer,
he’s really a good guy,
about how he thinks he’ll feel
singing somebody else’s songs,
playing their chords,
intoning their words,
summoning their meanings,
ten years down the road.
And he didn’t really have an answer for me,
not one I could understand anyway.
He said he can make them his own,
make each of the song’s
seven chords,
sixty-six stanzas,
into something he can--rightfully--call his.
But will it ever really be? His own?
In a town so close to leading the country
in foreclosed houses, do you really think
identity and artistic foreclosure are the best bets
for a fulfilled existence? I mean,
we’ve all seen the boarded-up houses,
sprayed painted signs singing
“no copper here,”
calling back “condemned,”
“rockbottom” refrains
crying “don’t tread on me,”
and the ever present declamation,
the chorus to end all choruses:
“keep out;”
the real song lurking
in the heart of Toledo.

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