Howard Firkin
I play the maudlin. It’s a quaint old thing,
a bit lute-like with fewer strings, a lot
of frets (’fretfully hard’). It’s also got
a strange sound board which makes a whining ring
so every note is like a whimpered cry.
I take my place beside the snivel and
the bass grimace, in front of our tantrum
(a strange, sporadic beat, unlike a drum)
and that completes my early music band.
I’ve got our new CD here. Care to buy?

I like to listen to it as I drive
to work; it soothes away the traffic pain.
I’m never more excited, more alive,
than when I hear that maudlin’s sweet refrain.