Gig Haikus


        Squeaking and squawking
        All eyes roll to the heavens
        The clarinet speaks
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        One beat to change from
        Harmon to cup to bucket
        Hey, who wrote this s**t?
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        The jam session starts
        Somebody calls "Giant Steps"
        Cold fear grips my brain
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        Here's the girl singer
        Stepping to the microphone
        Pitch, Time, All gone now
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        Gig is going well
        Some jerk requests "In the Mood"
        I look at my watch
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        I once had a dream
        Big house, new car, big money
        Now I play the bass
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        Gorgeous chick tells me
        "You sound just like Kenny G"
        My ego shatters
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        Three-eight, eleven-eight
        Damn you Andrew Lloyd Webber
        Five-eight, seven-eight
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        The woodwind doubler
        Practicing the piccolo
        Frustration defined
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        Pit orchestra gig
        Days and nights become as one
        I have no damned life
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        Bad intonation
        Strings are sharp and reeds are flat
        Brass too loud again
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        Great changes, good groove
        A one-in-a-million gig
        No singer. Yippee!
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        An oxymoron:
        "He played the accordion
        With delicacy"
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        The accordion
        "Squeeze box," yes, but more often
        "The Stomach Steinway"
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        Bassoons forever
        Try in vain not to sound like
        A farting bedpost
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        The strings slowly tune
        When they're done the unisons
        Are anything but
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        "I can't find my note"
        Bemoans the confused singer
        Quit now," we all pray
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        The contractor calls
        Months of Andrew Lloyd Webber
        "Bird Lives" no longer
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        Money's everything
        Playing any gig that comes
        Whores, we are all whores
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        That plate of hors d'oeuvres
        Cost more than we're getting paid
        Think we underbid?
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        Break time is over
        Rest of band is returning
        Now for that phone call
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        Rock drummer, lounge keys
        Classically trained singer
        Welcome to sub hell
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        God bless trust fund gigs
        Only have to eat ramen
        For a few more weeks
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        My drummer helped me
        Count the syllables
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