Glen Hansard Plays the House
'Tell the people that you saw me passing through.'
By the time he was halfway through the opening song
he was already flying. I was not the only one to think this.
His body rode the flurries and thermals, gliding
and swooping over the bitumen-black streets
with such apparent effortlessness, such astonishing grace
that his band simply coasted along on the upwash
of his outspread wings. Even geese are not this beautiful,
I thought, and then, this is no honking hyperbole,
this is Glen Hansard strumming his guitar
with such ferocious ferocity that there's a crater
in the soundboard where his fingers have worn away
the soft cedar. Stroking his abundant beard,
he told us how The Frames were so stoked
to play the Opera House that they all took selfies
in front of the gleaming sails to send to their mothers.
When the lights went up three hours later, we trailed
out - only to see Glen and his friends busking
the forecourt for anyone who wanted more craic.
I'd have dropped a gold coin into his guitar case, if there
was one. He played on as if the pavement was his home
and the random stars in the sky had gathered to listen.
Andy Kissane . The Best Australian Poems 2015. Edited by Geoff Page, Black Inc., 2015.
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