By Posted here
September 1, 2011
2 comments

Instrument of Choice

She was a girl
no one ever chose
for teams or clubs,
dances or dates,

so she chose the instrument
no one else wanted:
the tuba. Big as herself,
heavy as her heart,

its golden tubes
and coils encircled her
like a lover’s embrace.
Its body pressed on hers.

Into its mouthpiece she blew
life, its deep-throated
oompahs, oompahs sounding,
almost, like mating cries.

– Robert Phillips 

{ 2 comments… read them below or add one }

safehousepoetry September 1, 2011 at 11:18 pm

Excellent work. I love how you’ve created a romantic relationship between the girl and her instrument.

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