Poem: I Dreamed I Met Bill Frisell

Bill Frisell was back in town, he reached out for a chat; he remembered the review I wrote

last time, he was a fan of the podcast. He signed my record before I could ask. The pleasure

had all been his. And now, I’m awake – listening to a lesser guitarist, and thinking even more of Bill Frisell.

I won’t go near what this dream says about me. I still live wi…