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Make a Gift to the Arts & Letters
Endowment Arts & Letters Editorial Staff Learn about the MFA Program
at GCSU |
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The Local Music
Scene
By: Bob Hicok |
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My ukulele's at the cleaners. I
missed the plunky sounds and put my guitar in the dryer to shrink it. My
piano stopped brushing and most of the notes got cavities. Days
when I doubt the
existence of flesh, I play the tuba because
it hugs the body which
supports the lips in
their efforts to kiss the shy oompas loose. Have
you ever noticed we
tend not to say the names of
the people we love the most, but
have other songs for them, other nuzzlings of air? And
so she, above my beloved spoons and
their ice cream tunes, she
and good morning, she and
whenever we meet in the hall, sings
who I am to her, croons
________ or __________, and O, the
choral thrill of ________________, which,
even listening, even if I sewed you a
life of ears, you'd never hear. |
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At
the diner I'm not
telling you what to do anymore than I'm telling you what to feel. I'm not
telling you what to feel because I'm not sure I feel anything. I'm not sure I
feel anything because I'm not sure there's anything to feel. I'm not sure there's
anything to feel because I'm not sure language is real. I'm not sure
language is real because I can't see where language lives. I can't see
where language lives because we keep our brains locked away. We keep our
brains locked away because they are squishy. Our brains are
squishy because hard brains are dead brains. Hard brains
are dead brains because blood has stopped flowing. Blood has
stopped flowing because the heart has stopped twitching. The heart has
stopped twitching because of metal bullets or cholesterol
bullets. The
cholesterol bullet comes in a pizza or cheeseburger gun. I'm not
telling you to put that cheeseburger down, we've got the
place surrounded, I'm asking you
to pass the salt. I'm asking you
to pass the salt because this meat loaf tastes like social
studies. The primary
exports of If you catch
the waitresses eye, try to get her over. If you catch
the waitresses eye, throw it back. |
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