K. SIMON

Violin Class

It’s it the tic-toc-tic-toc
of the metronome
as we scratch our bows forth and back
across strings that sound too much
like a cat
being gutted.

We are told we are musicians,
though Tommy and Freddy pretend their bows
are swords and they are knights;
the only thing they save us from
are tones
too sharp
too flat.

We let them tell us
practice will alchemize our skills
into golden notes
that will linger
in our hearts
our souls
but in truth,
we only practice
because they say we must.

The metronome, the only consistency

in the fickle stirrings of our lives. 

USO Dance

When the bass is thrumming

and your heart is humming,

I hope

you're dancing with me.

When the singer’s crooning

I swear every movement

is the sum

of you and me.

Give me every shy glance

Just let me take my chance

‘Cause when the last notes linger

My heart I’ll bring ya

You’ll be wearing

my ring.