he’s with the band

he’s with the band
taking charge of his destiny
living the good life
his life
drinking top shelf
smoking the best
maybe he’s poppin the vein
I have no point of reference

Mama moved on
she said he was a drummer
with the the band of funk
she danced on tables
shot and chased folks
with machetes back then

drum set sitting in my
elementary bedroom
short sticks
green snare
maybe red
I don’t quite remember
the foot pedal
just the constant beat of the drum
when she wanted to hear it

I played
not knowing
he must have been there
he must have bought it for me
wouldn’t she hate drums
and him

Next blog: i do remember

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