THE PIANO LESSON

like neo-be-bop sound,
aging piano keys
tinkle.
against crushed velvet
carpet, whose ability
to cope
absorb echo, reverberations
stuns most pious music
teacher.
mercenary sage, merciful
cotton wads dampen echo,
alleged tunes.
certainly this was thirtieth
million rendition of "Camptown
Races".
the same filly always wins, 
etching of music notation, 
whimper.
written, annotated, instructed,
hints, lessons tips, stand
brazenly.
blue ink soft against hard black 
music sheet, filled with blot 
and blight.
the piano stood silent, waiting,
watching for its ivory keys to
tinkle...
and bang the little hammers inside
who tap the string, resounding
another
chorus of "Camptown Races", while
hoping, in hushed ambition, tickets
in hand...
wanting the colt to win, this time.