Art Blakey Abused My Drum Kit
“Art Blakey Abused My Drum Kit”
on the fourth of July,
leaving red and blue
stains on my satin carpet;
he persisted to talk
about his kids, like a teacher
failing to make connections,
wearing only band shirts
from the 80s, and using words
like “clusterfuck” flippantly.
once someone touches
your drum kit on a summer day
and throws you for a loop
about percussion, you tend to
look askance at a mug that
reads: “Let your heart soar”
and think,
“Did I leave my body at track practice?
Am I a stoner?
What are the chances my
shoes no longer fit?
What is the meaning of “fitness”?
Sore.
Sort of.
Sort of hurts.
Sort of hertz ‘lectric.
Sort of hurts ‘lectric viola style,
all ethereal and wafting
like a candle dangling above
a waterfall – apparently we want
to stop the flow?
-December 2011
