Is That Made of Cat Intestine?

When busking at the St George ferry terminal in NYC I know to go directly to the guard with the bomb-sniffing dog first, before venturing further into he space. If you don’t do it and you have a large bag – they’ll chase you. The dog, Tailor, was lounging on the floor. “Sorry to wake…

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My Grandad and His Musical Saw

Every now and then I come across poems about the musical saw. It gives me great pleasure to share with you this poem, written by Mark Abraham, a Manchester based poet, whose work is regularly featured in publications across England and Wales. Mark wrote this poem about his grandfather, George Bromwich, who played the musical…

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A Deluge of Poems About Street Musicians

I just posted a poem about busking yesterday, and a few hours later I received a fantastic comment, from Willa France who wrote: 14th St. Station on Wednesday, 19 January ~ 2:45 pm Saw Lady I descend into an alphabet maze of Union Square Station there entranced by ethereal sound teasing me in, on, around—…

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Power of Music

Every now and then I come across poetry about street musicians. This time I found a real gem – a poem about a street musician by Wordsworth! Written in 1806, it could have just as well be describing subway musicians and their audiences in the subway of NYC today: POWER OF MUSIC/William Wordsworth AN Orpheus!…

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20 People Together is a Lot

As I waited for the subway train to take me to my busking spot at 34th street, there were MTA workers taking a break on the platform. One leaned a ladder against the wall. Then I saw what they were doing – new white speakers were placed by the ceiling every 10 feet. This is…

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It’s Special Because It’s Live

On my way to the subway station a guy in a white shirt said: “Saw Lady!” He said he’s been seeing my flyers advertising the Musical Saw Festival or my CD for years, on the billboard at the park. He has lived in the neighborhood for 20 years. It never ceases to amaze me that…

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Wassailing

I am a Wassailer! Wassailing (pronounced to rhyme with fossil-ing) is an old English word for ‘busking during the Christmas season’. It is found in old Christmas carols such as: “Here we come a-wassailing among the leaves so green. Here we come a-wand’ring so fair to be seen. Love and joy come to you, and…

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Rat & Roach Poison

When I got to the terminal of the ferry to Staten Island, the guard with the bomb sniffing dog greeted me: “Saw Lady!” Two men on a tall dolley were fixing the big running sign above the entrance to the terminal. It had numbers from 1 to 9 all along. As I was setting up…

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