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Your fingers run lightly
over the keys, a Sonata
in C, I believe, as passersby
hear but don’t listen.
I sit, outside your frame,
watching your body
sway in time to the rhythm
of some long-ago memory,
a postcard wrapped up
in song.
I never got piano lessons.
save for music videos of
rock stars banging
melodies.
I never got piano lessons
save for a keyboard at Christmas
that I used to learn what
Bossa Nova means
I never got piano lessons
but in a pinch
I can play three chords in
busted rhythms.
I never got piano lessons
though my steering wheel bears the scars
of all the finest piano rock
played at high volume.
At a fork in my quantum self
there’s a me with three/five/seven years of experience
playing and trying and exploring and
being a piano guy.
I’m third shift at all the places
I never get to go to anymore.
I forego the tip jar and just play from the heart.
On my steering wheel
three chords
in busted rhythms.
And it’s enough.
Your fingers run lightly
over the keys, a Sonata
in C, I believe, as passersby
hear but don’t listen.
I sit, outside your frame,
watching your body
sway in time to the rhythm
of some long-ago memory,
a postcard wrapped up
in song.
— Kevin
Piano Lessons
I never got piano lessons.
save for music videos of
rock stars banging
melodies.
I never got piano lessons
save for a keyboard at Christmas
that I used to learn what
Bossa Nova means
I never got piano lessons
but in a pinch
I can play three chords in
busted rhythms.
I never got piano lessons
though my steering wheel bears the scars
of all the finest piano rock
played at high volume.
At a fork in my quantum self
there’s a me with three/five/seven years of experience
playing and trying and exploring and
being a piano guy.
I’m third shift at all the places
I never get to go to anymore.
I forego the tip jar and just play from the heart.
On my steering wheel
three chords
in busted rhythms.
And it’s enough.
My daughters get piano lessons.
— Bud Hunt
April 21st, 2018
https://www.evernote.com/l/AAGTyKtCHLxJqJ2DbY0xQqAQDLHikgNrTCg