practicing my rudiments
building my blocks
right left right right
left right left left
relearning the power of paradiddle
of gravity’s bounce
I used to get so tired
bulldozing, steam rolling
wielding sledge hammers instead
of these perfectly balanced divining rods
losing myself in repetition
long patterns seeking rhythmic submission
the world contracts pulsing light
my children peek in
Gangly & Awkward, the undersexed adolescents,
schlepping their horns like your baby
after you’ve dropped it already once or twice
ask if they can play with me
and that is my grace.
when it gets too late for drums I
start puncturing small withdrawal holes in my tongue
rather than being a dick to my wife
I pick up old cochon quequette
my neglected acoustic six string
and play long into the night
No comments:
Post a Comment