Lost Piano Concerto

when i lived on the lower
east side of
new york
at the age of ten
the hallways
were all musty,
smelled
from urine,
graffiti on
all the walls,
echos would
float in the air
for miles
one day
in this terrible place
I found a piano,
it was downstairs
ready to be thrown away
an old steinway
with broken keys
rusted out foot pedals
and a roller,
somehow someone in the building
must have
used this piano, wanted
to learn to play it.
must have tried a long
time before giving
it up
i played this piano
everyday, my fingers
stroked the keys
i could only play with
one finger, and though
the notes were sour and
off key, i could play
alexander's ragtime band
it felt so good to
hear those notes
echoing through the hallway
it sounded like real music to me
and everyday i
would look for the piano
and hit the keys
in delight, and it made
me feel so good
the dreary, awful sounds
of the lower east side
melted away.


and i felt sorry for
whoever had thrown
the piano away,
it could be fixed
it thought,
someone could restore
it enough to make
it a grand piano,
and it was gone
someone had taken it
away,
to be tossed out
with the trash like
all the rest
and i felt so bad
about it, i cried...
it almost felt like
it was my own,
and i especially hated that there
would be no music in this awful hallway
only the usual sounds
of misery.