Tuesday, March 23, 2010
Juke Box Hero
The writer decided to stop writing, pick up a guitar. He strummed and poked, the motions made nonsense noise. When he was a teenager, he wanted a guitar, but mom, said, no way, the noise is too much, the house is too small, you’ll give up in about two weeks. Drums? Please. So, instead, he sat in his room and blasted the same loud music recorded by someone else that he would’ve played if he had a guitar, and wrote stories about how mom made too much noise, how the house they lived in sucked, how she gave up every two weeks, and how his life sucked because he never got a guitar. Older, mom now gone, he wrote stories that were apologies for being such a jerk. I’m out of apologies, he sang while playing discordant notes, now I have nothing but noise.