David W. Landrum

Thinking of Robert Johnson at a Farmer’s Market

I play for tips at the farmer’s market. Folks
are generous today. My guitar case
is paved with bills. I think of Johnson here.
The undisputed patron saint of blues, 
the man we venerate; and every time 
we play we use his riffs, progressions he
came up with, and his style. But when went
from town to town he could not go in bars
and clubs where he would be paid well and make 
the best tips. Segregation was in force.
He played on street corners; those nightclubs in 
the part of town where he was safe and was 
permitted to be; and however much
he was declared the emperor of blues, 
life still was tough and life was tenuous. 
When he finished, the gig over and done, 
he planned his next job, next town, and next club.

David W. Landrum’s poetry has appeared in numerous journals and magazines including Measure, Voice and Verse, Blue Unicorn, Christianity & Literature, Dappled Things … and in Pulsebeat.