top of page

"Major Music Studios"


MAJOR MUSIC STUDIOS

The glitter of a drum set caught my eye

but I told Mom

as we passed by the gold trombones

in the shop window

that someday I wouldn’t mind

learning guitar. But I was surprised

how quickly she ushered me into the shop

where a cluster of cowbells clanked at the door

and the walls were covered

with mandolins, dobroes and Gretsch

hollow-body electric guitars.

For nearly an hour I wandered about,

breathless before those feminine shapes

until I had to cough to catch my breath.

Words can’t explain

the burst of elation felt that day

when a three-quarter-sized Spanish guitar

tinted in shades of orange and brown

was lifted up from a plush-lined case

and placed in the cradle of my young hands.

 

Mark Madigan received his MFA in Writing from Spalding University in Louisville, Kentucky. His poems have previously appeared in The American Scholar, California Quarterly,The Louisville Review, Poetry, Tar River Poetry and other magazines.


Recent Posts

See All

Two poems by Mckendy Fils-Aimé

sipèstisyon If people say your child is beautiful, your child will become ugly. ok, i confess. once, i said fuck you to danny perkins on the last day of kindergarten after a miserable year of being pu

"Dead Things" by Beth Boylan

I feel compelled to pick up the baby bird that has died just outside my doorstep this morning. Place her in my hand and rub her toothpick ribs with my thumb. Gently kiss the milky-blue bulbs of her ey

Two poems by Daniel Edward Moore

Hey, Future is that you / in the moment / a Buddhist might love / enough to hyperventilate / or the day’s dizzy spin /of 24 hours / kicking joy / to the curbs / of chaos / blessed by Hallmark’s / squa

bottom of page