Tonight we saw two grand American voices on stage and they happened to be father and daughter. The gathering was a benefit for The Poetry Center and was held at Rubloff Auditorium in Grant Park. Poet and professor, Miller Williams, and his breathtakingly talented singer-songwriter daugter, Lucinda Williams, swapped turns at the mic. Poem. Song. Poem. Song. Poem. Song. It was awe-inspiring. It makes me want to write real shit again. Not ad copy. Not this blog. Real shit. Like this:

Minuet for Army Boots and Orchestra
by Miller Williams

Whose tongues are twisted and whose hearts are shrunk
may play as puppets, may in that disguise
while towns burn in their brains, drink to be drunk.

So when God comes to catch this crumbling chunk
of dirt, what do we say? That we despise
whose tongues are twisted and whose hearts are shrunk?

If Thomas had told us the gnawed body stunk,
what would it change? Men knowing what men devise
while towns burn in their brains, drink to be drunk.

If Calvin came to tell us Christ is bunk,
what could he hope to teach us? Pain? Surprise?
Whose tongues are twisted and whose hearts are shrunk?

So the viking sails for home and is sunk,
so Napoleon is poisoned, so Lorca dies,
while towns burn in their brains. Drink to be drunk

until they lay us to sleep and slam the trunk,
two people more who open and close their eyes,
whose tongues are twisted and whose hearts are shrunk,
while towns burn in their brains. Drink to be drunk.