You have been in the band room hundreds of times. It never changes.
Why does that bass drum never get used? We donāt know. We donāt question it.
One more time, says the band director. Itās never just one more time.
Where did we find those guard silks? We donāt know. The guard doesnāt know. We never bought them.
There are many bands in the lot. All helpful, yet none know where yours is. Where is your band? Hurry, visual block starts soon.
You can hear the battery rehearsing on the football field. You are at home and practice ended an hour ago.
You left your glove at 7-11. A band mom found it five minutes before the football game,
The rain pours down. One more time, your director says.
You could have sworn that that one kid was a senior four years ago. Heās still here.
No matter how hard you try you cannot leave. You have tried so many times.
This fundraiser has been used a dozen times this year. Still it works.
The football game has not ended. Itās been six hours and the football game continues.
Your fingers are numb from the cold. Just yesterday, you had to wear a tank top at rehearsal.
The metronome clicks in your dreams.
Where are your bandās props? They were here an hour ago. Everybody elseās props are here. Where are yours?
Itās show day, youāre going to be late. One more time, your director says.
You broke a reed. The next day, you find it whole in your case.
Your other tans have faded. Your sock tan stays.
You fall asleep. When you wake up youāre in the band room. Did you fall asleep there?
You cannot remember where you left your drill book. You still remember your freshman year music.
Last time, I promise, your band director says. Itās not.
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