Tonight's Poet Corner: Flirting With Musicians

Flirting With Musicians
by Belinda Roddie

I broke three out of the six strings
on my guitar, so I carried it to
the music shop where you were fixing
a grand piano, and I loved the way
your fingers arched against the ivory
and ebony, the curve of its bones.

I asked if you knew how to restring
my poor, shabby instrument, and you
directed me to the man behind the counter,
whose beard was so majestic that I wanted
to snuggle against it like it was a rich,
red carpet for me to rest upon.

As he tinkered with my guitar, I saw her,
skirt bristling as she brought in her clarinet,
and I wanted her so badly to wet the reed
and trill the metal keys. That's when

I realized how much of a hopeless case
I was, so I hid my shame behind my fretboard
once the pretty gentleman passed it back to me,
and I played the same three notes over and
over again in the corner until the store
was closing and you very politely
asked me to leave.