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“Branson,” A Poem by Bruce Craven

In Arts & Letters, Creative Writing, Creativity, Humanities, liberal arts, Poetry on July 15, 2020 at 6:45 am

Bruce Craven is a member of the Columbia Business School Executive Education faculty in New York City. In addition to directing and teaching in a variety of executive programs, he teaches graduate business students his popular elective Leadership Through Fiction.  His book Win or Die: Leadership Secrets from Game of Thrones, was published in March 2019 by Thomas Dunne Books, an imprint of St. Martin’s Press.  The book is currently being translated into Russian and Turkish. He wrote the novel Fast Sofa (1993) which was published in Japanese and German. He also co-wrote the script for the film adaptation, starring Jennifer Tilly, Jake Busey and Crispin Glover. His collection of poetry, Buena Suerte in Red Glitter will be published in 2019 by Red Dirt Press. He lives with his wife and two sons in the Coachella Valley in California.

 

Branson

The Live Music Capital of the World wasn’t good.
We were stuck in one spot. Artistically,
it sucked,” said Mickey Raphael. Willie should
not have committed months without simply
talking to Mark, his business advisor,
but Tillis brought tequila, weed, smiles. Shotgun
signed to play the venue-town for guitar survivors
in need of steady short sets, repeat forever. Fun
for some, sure, merchandise, tourists, but for outlaws?
No freedom. Still is still moving for Will, but no bus
was a cell. In the Ozark motel, Mark saw
the sleeping bag, the tent pitched on carpet. This deal’s a bust;
rust, not freedom. “Get me out of here!” Willie blamed
the road for his pain, but Branson was prison, just loss, just fame.

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