The Drummer by John Grey


In love with the drummer
she sat through set after set,
at her friend’s side,
her ears wading their way
through screeching vocals,
wailing guitar solos,
to hear only the guy
with the long blonde locks keeping score,
seventeen years old
and didn’t know a cymbal from a snare
but who could wallow in a ponderous drum solo
while everyone else headed for the bar,
who dwelled nevertheless
on how many times a guy
could thump tight-stretched pigskin
in a milli-second,
how he sweated like a pig
how he swilled from a beer
at the end of every song,
thumped and crashed and
kicked and pounded
and never looked her way once.

©2019 John Grey


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John Grey is an Australian poet, US resident. Recently published in That, Dunes Review, Poetry East and North Dakota Quarterly with work upcoming in Haight-Ashbury Literary Journal, Thin Air, Dalhousie Review and Failbetter.



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