The band I

School Desk Graffiti by Jackie Diane

My first band. It was the foundation stone upon which I began to construct the rambling shack of my identity. If you hired a jackhammer today, you’d still find the slab down there somewhere.

With eight tiny hand prints impressed in the stone.

It was easy. We liked the same bands. So we started our own.

When we were together we spoke about it all at once, their ideas and mine collaging in the air between us. It was as if time was speeding up and we were sprinting, stumbling, scampering to catch it, our faces pyretic with the pace of it all.

When the other boys were around, we were a clamorous murder of crows. We were conquerors among commoners. They just could not understand.

When the girls were around, we cooed like pigeons. Oh, the band? Yeah. Just a little something we’d been working on.

We discussed our hair, what to wear, practiced punk rock stares in the mirror when we should have been washing our hands. Bags and books became billboards for our new religion. Desks bore the scars of our ball-point branding.

One Monday morning I watched Christmas decorations swinging high above the main street and wondered if we would ever play music together.

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~ by Daniel Townsend on September 29, 2013.

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