- Rate this tanka prose
Acts 1, 2, 3…
written by: Genie Nakano
If I were
to write a play
about my life
it would be
a comedy of errors
Those musicians…what is it about them that makes my pulse rise and my cheeks blush?
I‘ve fallen in love with one too many. Last affair went on for years. I learned how to do my own form of kickboxing fighting off his other women who were crazier than me. I’m through with drama.
I almost, almost fell again–last night at the Roxy when I heard him play….
I’ve taken a vow
“I’m a dancer I said… let’s play music together” But he hesitated…pulled back a little. I felt embarrassed and giggled like a schoolgirl. Then he gave me an open smile. Thank god, I caught my madness and left the club.
Whew…smart move. I’ve made up my mind. No more—never again.
Perhaps a solution would be for me to take up an instrument–drums or something like that. Then I could just fall in love with myself.
I go home and dream about what kind of instrument I should play. Piano wouldn’t fit in my apt. The flute…no I want to sing while I play. I settle on the guitar. Look for a maestro on the Internet–found one– close…down the block.
Can’t wait. Next Monday is my day. I buy a used guitar at the local pawn shop. Walk up 3 flights of stairs and knock on the door. Maestro is so handsome I think I should turn around and run. I’m afraid of what’s going to happen.
I’ll just play it by ear. I really want to study and focus now. It’s time…get a hold of myself I tell myself–grow up–straighten up.
from out of the woods
the currents are strong
the river is deep