third violinist

I think he’d been third violinist

an orchestra in Sweden

but he’d quit though I’m not sure why

if he didn’t want to talk about that

I was certainly not one to pry

we were students together

which I was bored with from the off

it was all this is how things are

no back & forth no reasoning

no learning from exchange of ideas

just suck it up & spit it out to others

ours not to reason why

he had a battered old blue volvo

I called the battlestar due to its size

& we’d go out to explore the world

find strange places to sit think drink

try to figure out where we going

the love the ladies the work

& just knew he’d be ok

he was sucking it all up

being given ideas things to say

& knew too after our indoctrination

I’d never see his face again

the third fiddle always knows his place

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