‘At The School of Art’
Come to the city newly, bidding goodbye
To the inherent fields; house and barn
Eager to chance his fate at Music or Art
… I am talking of a fine young man
To read the classifieds, he would go to the library
Or would listen to the radio, until one day
Of a school, he came to know by some source
‘In music’, who boast, ‘We offer a course’
In the office, up a multi-storey building
Eleven O’clock sharp, early next morning
At the reception of a fair young lady
Impatient, our young man was waiting
Soon after, into a furnished cabin, let in
Through the screen door, him, I could see
Next to a man, in a cushioned chair
He, who, ran the school, with long curly hair
Both men must have had a good talk
For both of them, intimately quite
Being lovers of the noble art
Shook hands, before did they part
Through the short and quick bargain
My curious eye didn’t miss
When they shook hands again
Notes, that changed hands, just long n’ crisp
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