Even today I can here it
digging inside of my head
Boring a tunnel that feels like
a fingernail scratching a chalkboard.
I picked that song in fourth grade music class
because it irritated everybody,
but they had to sing it
because I picked it.
A mad song that flowed on and on
like an old engine
groaning down the highway
A song with a question and answers
“There’s a hole in my bucket dear Liza
a hole.“
I laughed as everybody sang
Kathleen Zach hit me hard in the shoulder
for picking that song.
She wanted to sing a song
about nature and beautiful things
and now she had to sing this.
Thirty years later
driving down the road
“There’s a whole in my bucket.”
resounds over and over in my head
I want to tear open my skull
let it escape from my cortex.
Vapid beyond belief
I realize the agony
I brought to that class
and learned paybacks
may be a long time in coming,
but they come.
Adding your comment:
and much love~ Desire~*~
