For whom it may concern

Bowerbirds,

As the name would suggest,

Grow jeweled gardens of

Glittering novelties meant to impress--

Sea glass and flattened bottle caps, tied up

In stray cord and shredded paper.

For you,

I build a bower of my own, of

C-majors and B-flats,

And songs I hope

You haven’t heard too many times before,

Strung together with

Soaring chords and shredding basslines.