I think that I shall never be
Conductor of a symphony!
A band of players so elite
Would cringe each time I tapped the beat.
In concert black with white baton,
I'd stare out pop-eyed at the throng.
With shaking knees and sweaty palms,
I'd raise my stick & bring it down.
At once the flutes began too shrill -
The violins joined with a will
WAIT! That's a rest! WHY do the play?
I knew that this was not my day.
I peered at my conductor's score.
I flipped a page and then three more...
Compound meters, triple beats,
C-clefs, solos, hordes of keys!
The deafening din of snare drums' rattle
Reminded me of stampeding cattle.
They must be stopped before the crowd
Revolted in an ugly battle!
I yelled at them with all my power
Then woke to my floorleaders glower.
"Did you forget?
It's QUIET HOURS!"
~ A. Nonnymous (a PCC student)
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