Sweet Nothings: An Anthology of Rock and Roll in American PoetryEvery lovesick summer has its song, And this one I pretended to despise. But if I were alone when it came on, I turned it up full blast to sing along A primal scream in croaky baritone, The notes all flat, the lyrics mostly slurred No wonder I spent so much time along Making the rounds in Dad's old Thunderbird. From Cruising with the Beach Boys by Dana Gioia No one should be surprised that rock and roll music turns up in the work of many of the Baby