Not Jazzed About the Funk I'm In
Smooth jazz playing
on my car radio.
Finding myself reluctantly
bobbing my head along
to the constant rhythm
of the mild funk.
Reminding me of
long car rides with dad,
and being subjected
to The WAVE radio station
94.7-- The Soul of
Southern California.
I’ve now tasted death
and pop a stick of
spearmint gum
into my dry
annoyed mouth.
Thoughts of
unpleasantries
invade my emptiness
and, presently,
fill me with regret.
Over this song
or other things?
Or maybe both.
Missing my dad
but wishing the WAVE
no longer existed--
maybe it doesn’t.
I blame you…
writer of
poetry challenge
for this noise--
the torture on my ‘drums.
I need to lie down
until I’m fine.
Will I ever be fine?
Who even listens
to smooth jazz
anyway?
Dad did (funk spazz).
Jazz Band…
Jazzercise…
DJ Jazzy Jeff…
Jazz it Up…
Utah Jazz…
and All That Jazz…
Cool Jazz…
No Jazz for me.
Still, I miss you
dad—
and The WAVE too.
*I wrote this poem on April 11, 2021, as part of a ’30 days of poetry’ challenge. This was day 11 and the prompt was: Tune in to a radio station you don’t normally listen to, and write a poem inspired by the first song or message you hear. The song I heard was called “Dinner is Not Over” by Jack Stauber. Read the poem and take a guess at how the song made me feel.
Copyright © Courtney Hubbert | Year Posted 2023
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