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the singing teacher

andrew delapruch Avatar    Block poet from commenting on your poetry

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the singing teacher

at 16 he was in a hardcore
band, the vocalist who
screamed a lot & often
a neighboring community 
college was offering singing
lessons for early credit &
even someone at the age of
16 could apply,
so he thought he’d take a 
chance after school a couple
times a week &
signed up.

when he first arrived,
her eyes lit up, for the singing
teacher was not accustomed to
male students &
in fact told him so---
he thought she simply saw him
as a challenge, an experiment
of sorts,
after he told her that the only
reason he was taking lessons
was so that he could scream
more without losing his voice
halfway through the show.

having studied opera herself &
holding a resume with several
appearances on soundtracks,
she secretly attempted to steer
all of her students in the same
direction, but this new challenge
had horrible Italian pronunciation &
his “creamy” voice seemed to
be more akin to jazz & blues 
stylings, so in a short bit of time
she changed up her act &
had him belting out different

“you need to sing from your 
solar plexus…do you know where
that is?” she said, and he shook his
head with indifference,
for at this point he was sick of the
lessons already---
“here, stand behind me…”
the teenager did what she said,
then she took his hands in hers
and wrapped them round her stomach,
thrusting them up under her breasts,
moving them around on her belly
remarking “your solar plexus is
right around here…and this is where
you must sing from in order to
keep from losing your voice...”

and she breathed in deeply, exhaling,
while his hands were still pushed up
under with her fingers tracing along
his hands…

“you mustn’t sing from your throat,
but from this place…a place deep inside
you.” she whispered out,
and in that office with one door &
soundproofing all over,
he did sing. 

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