Bleeding out my ears, virtually

I just heard a base track recording today. The poet, trying out his pipes.

No, not spoken word. Singing.

Yes, singing.

"The Unicorns" to be precise. He isn't compromising the work's lyrics, he's merely adding a cap at the end of the first two lines "Please come awahile, remain and play/the unicorns won't come today..."

Still in shock. Unpolished, but he's got pipes. You can see he was influenced by early 70's art rockers like King Crimson (there's an element of their "Epitaph" in the tone of the song). He'd say Anthony Newley (not that familiar with him, but he cites him as a singer-songwriter whose work he admires) or early-early-early (did I say "early"?) David Bowie ("Hunky Dory" era).

Who knew? Just not sure if I like the idea of someone who is the best at what they do (poetry) crossing over into new territory (songs). But, since when did he listen to me?

We definitely need to distract him before he goes further off on tangents. This is where LA was so useful...so many beautiful, bright, appreciative women to keep his attention, he just wrote between relationships and never had the idle time to wander.

Maybe I can get him on a bus. Would they notice if he was bound and gagged?