On a quiet Saturday morning,
we walk the music store aisles searching
for a used guitar within my novice,
probably never gonna be a rock star
price range. Dr. UberLucky picks up
his suggestion, a blue Fender Strat,
used but not abused as a classified ad
might say. He plugs in, tunes the axe
and noodles away, quietly test driving
the instrument.
“Strings are shot.
pickups are in good shape.
neck is serviceable.
Wow.This is a real good amp.
Anyway, it seems like a decent.”
My funnnnnnny Valentine.
the gay man sings.once.
testing out a new Peavey PA system.
I see the Doctor wince. This will not do.
He’s not well socialized this morning. He’s
already had a run in with two quasi literate
parking lot attendants and the store manager.
My funnnnnnny Valentine.
the gay man sings.twice.
Yes Stuart, I like the depth of this system.
This will not do. The Doctor methodically
rubs his forehead in the universal sign for,
“Please.make it STOP!”
My funnnnnnny Valentine.
the gay man sings.thrice.
Yes I think this will do nicely.
Even the half alive half otherwise
bad ether emitting Councilman knows by
now. This will not do.
My funnnnnnny SKKKRONNNNNNNNNNNNKKKKKKKKKKK
the gay man stares down Dr. UberLucky
who shrugs,
“O…sorry!”
Later the good Doctor says,
“My dear pupils, today you
witnessed the proper, well timed
application of guitar feedback.”
THE MIND ATTIC 