This is the real thing, not
some damn sleight of hand.
I play the air. It’s not some sideshow trick.
No damn mirrors or friggin’ magic wand.
I put my hands in the air to aim and stick
Them just so, to make musical sounds click.
I practice all the time; there is no schtick
In this. It takes years. You start out cheesy--
Small tunes like Greensleeves. Off key, you are sick
All the time until you don’t get queasy
When you stick your hands on the note. Easy.
Then you are ready to take on some more.
Run notes up and down. Then join a busy
Cyber group, entertain the Wal-Mart hordes
Wanting to see an accident in action.
Crowds just want to see a crucifiction.
My
sister taught me the workings of “sonnets”. There are definitely some “rules”
to go by. We owe ~her~ this poem, as
she gave me the template.
(Published
poet, she is. Quite gifted with the 26 soldiers.)
(I enjoyed creating a new word: “cruciFICTION”. It fits with the sonnet. Did you “get” that one? crucifixion / crucifiction. )