Previously posted on Pencliff.
My father
bought me
an accordion
when I was a kid.
He said
it would help
my asthma,
pushing
the bellows
in and out
over again.
But I knew better,
it was only a ruse.
My old man wanted me
to play polka music
to impress his corny friends.
The Beer Barrel Polka.
The Pennsylvania Polka.
To play in a Mummers’s Day parade.
I’m really a freak,
a grungy beatnik,
I told my dad flat out.
Just get me an electric guitar
and a great big amp
so I can crank up the music
and play in a heavy metal band.
©️mft
