by Don Boes
I struggle not to say the same thing twice
or sound repetitive or repeat myself
and he never allowed that to happen
as he created assorted sounds
on various instruments
though maybe not at the same time
and he sported many hats
and I mean that literally and figuratively
and he wore a variety of glasses
depending on who or what he was looking at
or who or what was looking at him
and he fretted about the future
and generously said yes
to every student
who wanted help getting there
and his collages I saw in the classroom building made sense because he fashioned art
about the past and future out of other art
and his poems considered yellow machines
and cameras and structures
of all kinds and now when I pass his house
on the other end of my block
I can hear him practice on his drum kit
which meant that Karen most likely wasn’t home and that Thrower was absolutely concocting some good noise.
Pegasus 