Michael Nesmith

Walked out the door as a first national treasure

More than most microscopes able to see

How songs glow and grow on a warm TV

Where time is a watch as well as a listen

Time divides charity into two visions

That float like smoke signals to stratospheres

Over deserts and plains like ghost pioneers

The cactus called and he got distracted

Made paper airplanes out of iron contracts

He missed a cue, thought of something to say

That changed at least one universe to this day

But Michael would always be the exception

The perceiving man who defies perception

Confusing the cosmic operators

They said, "We need a moment, get back to you later"

'Cause here was a turn they hadn't expected

The kind of dilemma requires reflection

How do we deal with a half-hearted man

Who rejects the half we hold in our hands?

Who's so unimpressed with riches and glory

Can't soothe him to sleep with a bedtime story

What if we get him to paint the Grand Canyon

On Pegasus pulling a covered wagon?

Or what if we never fix up all the fuck-ups?

When you get dragged down, it's hard to be stuck-up

Now that put a stop to the gossip up there

And the sun fell asleep in a favorite chair

Now worse than all this is the fate of a reader

Believes every word heard at the bird feeder

A warbler pushed under, count all the bubbles

And count on a folk singer to stir up trouble

The sun raised an eyelid, bellowed and yawned

And stared straight ahead at an infinite dawn

From shadow to light, brighter than it could be

Awed by itself, as well it should be

But what of the cap and the gods up in heaven?

They interrupted the news at eleven

No small talk, no small talkSo they

Dangled the cap just a little bit lower

Mike still didn't notice so they tilted it over

Out poured a river, its mouth full of answers

Diamonds, sorrow, solid gold dancers

And still all of that was hardly enough

To convince old Nes that he wanted the stuff

But he tried yet again to put paper to pen

Held the pick in his hand, counted back from ten

He knew in his heart he would hit it this time

The most metric of meters, the sublimest of rhymes

From belly to throat to tongue he was singing

And it summoned the angels like church bells ringing

He told a long story, it was almost too long

Ran out of air as he finished the song

"Now that is more like it," he said with a grin

Took a deep breath and he sang it again

And as he went limp, pale and exhausted

High faith came down and he was accosted

The angels beguiled by his lyrical ways

Lit a fire to the curtain, smoked out the play

The critics just coughed and the crowd was no better

Rain and wind battered magnetized letters

That flew from the marquee mangling his name

Michelangelo Nesmith was back on his game

He spoke with a fury for all of his captors

On a pedestal made of plastic adapters

That once bought his records for so many millions of years

Until they all melted to black mud tears

That fell from the faces of Buddha and Oz

And riddled the masses and won God's applause

And still true believers screamed out his name

It seems Michael Nesmith could not elude fame

So he ate chocolate cookies with backstage idols

Crosby and Hope juggling various bibles

And there was Davy and Red Rose too

Hovering 'round an horizon so blue

And he dreamt of a circle that he was inside

And he dreamt of a circle surrounded by sky

And one hand that draws what the other erases

And a green wool cap set adrift across the outer spaces

All the other outer spaces