David Emery and the folks at The Steel Chisel recently published a little self-effacing poem of mine about not being able to sing. The poem itself is kind of rhythmless, which friends have come to expect from my singing voice: “Voice like a stomped-on harmonica. The little puff of noise / you can squeeze from a rabbit with all the melody of a poem // about Marcus McCann written by Marcus McCann.” Et cetera. Have a look at the poem, or check out the latest issues of The Steel Chisel.

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