Down Home – Monrovia (Album Review as Poetry)

Monrovia
Colorado is as far from Nashville
As Nashville is from Monrovia.
The Ivory Coast is an embattled, ruthless place;
So is Music City, but in a first-world white way.
Still, aren’t we all the same? All brothers and sisters?
Look deep into my eyes and your own — you’ll see.
Mothers write letters to sons
Whether white or black — a mother’s love is blind.
Two stargazing rebels meet, write, sleep in trucks,
Become lost at sea and find themselves beached
On a beautiful coast, sometimes a mess, sometimes brilliant.
The letters still come: Courage. Love. Son of mine they say.
A broken road is not the end of the world
But the true beginning of everything.
Oh my baby come on home, the mother thinks
And does not write this to the son.
He will make it on a ship named Vagabond Blues
Guided by the siren song of home.
Listen.
Nashville-based Down Home debuted in January 2013 in the lounge at 12th & Porter. Down Home has built a following with shows at The Basement, Mercy Lounge and Bootlegger’s on Broadway, where they booked themselves under the pretense of being a bluegrass band.