The Highschool Band

Nostalgia hits hard,

but cushions it with

horns in the back

sweet saxophone notes

the picking bass

and the ever-going clarinet.

Do you feel them play?

 

The bass drum of memories,

jazz to fill my lungs

and feed my ears;

sweet and spiced

peppercorn and trombone solo

like blackened caramel sauce.

Feel the cayenne flood your ears

and smooth your throat with

dark chocolate piano chords.

Do you feel it?

 

I've got a dizzy spell

from breathing in the flavor.

Closed my eyes for a moment

and I was spinning out of control.

But, oh God, how they had me move!

As if my soul had before been confined!

My body tingled

and I could barely suppress

the candy-sweet smile,

the coffee-bitter grin,

the whole and unholy way

the notes curled like

freshly cut fries

dipped in your favorite milkshake.

 

No wonder they thought music was a sin

because only something this

crazy,

      beautiful,

           jealous,

               inspiring,

                  juicy,

                    wonderful

could compete with the works of

the Devil himself.

And, by God,

they were right.

This poem is about: 
My community

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