joining the band

politely,
you go next door and
ask your neighbor
to please stop
playing
his banjo.
he has his whole
band over
every night practicing.
sorry, he says.
it's okay you tell
him, I'm just trying
to sleep, that's
all.
you look around the
room and see
someone on a washboard,
a skinny man
with no teeth
mouthing a harmonica.
a fat woman
blowing on a half
empty brown jug.
you wouldn't happen
to play spoons, would
ya, he asks.
spoons. nope.
we'll we need a spoon
player if you want
to try. taint that hard.
but I'm in my pajamas.
no problem, he says,
here, have some chew
and some pork rinds
and sit over there
next to maybeline.
jethro, hand my good
neighbor some of them
spoons and let's make
some music. pass him
a sip of that white
lightning to loosen
up him up. he seems kind
tightly wound.