we wait, ten thousand drops
of sweat, ten thousand years
pass and we march on
this marimba is heavier than your brain.
this marimba is always crooked, a ghetto fix
will do.
sideways, they crab
red, the car is
missing, you are
lacking hydration,
slacking motivation
two skins.
arm muscles ripple,
up and down hell
for my brothers
and we look up for silver trucks.
everyone silently screaming, unsure
if we are speaking the same language.
we always were.
lost minds and found tanlines
and reasons to breathe,
plastic blend drumheads
and ten matched pair hickory
nikes we do what we want measure thirteen I just want to party cause swimsuits we wont lose it now dont drop that good lord son french fries we just need someone
he leaves, the sun tickles the trees, my eyes burn
director screaming, zone far far away
it gets better. It really does get better.
band dismissed
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Hey People!!!! I'm Back!!!!! I may be starting a series of poems with a subject of Band Life (since this is the only life I have any more :3) so just comment and tell me what you're thinking! :) duces!!
