Yesterday my second daughter arrived from Thailand.  Biologically she is not my daughter, but rather my first exchange student six years ago.  We have kept in touch over the years and she is now here with me for a month.  Her best friend from high school here is also with us.  Tonight we went to the Palace Coffee in Canyon, Texas, to listen to a trio because the band leader is a friend of the friend.  This poem attempts to describe the music.

Long hair flying

except the drummer

Wild strumming

No picking

Guitar and bass

percussion not strings

Three percussion instruments

vibrating sound

until

suddenly

guitar becomes synthesizer

haunting, electronic

other dimensional.

Then

back to

three percussion instruments

vibrating sound

voices lost