“Guitar Frets” poem

Paying no debts, 
reneging on bets I should have made before I
gave away my shirt and my principles for a pocket of dirt and blank cassettes,
hopping on jets
to have tet-a-tets
with dynamic CEOS who feel no regrets,
eating Amish baby croquettes in the Pocanos.

Shedding my skin and piercing my gills,
fashion victim vignettes
on my reading list,
nothing but nets.
Price on my head, Corvettes,
misunderstanding Stan Getz.
I bought your sunsets for a penny.

[interpretive guitar solo]

5-minute exercise

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