wax disc on a base of brass

father once played piano jazz,

sheet music he didn’t know;

not for him ragtime razmatazz

– never joined any pub combo.


some studio time once rented,

recorded a seventy eight disc,

short blues tune, self-invented;

two copies – little financial risk.


wax disc on a base of brass,

that teen pianist played by ear,

rhythm on washboard of glass;

hiss now makes it hard to hear.


who else on our suburban street

recorded plaintive piano blues?

hear him holler, stomping feet,

stool-rock severely tested screws.


anarchist brothers boyishly toyed

with legacy platter, played using pin

pierced cone, experiment enjoyed;

– long absent now, no disc to spin.


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