learning to play the banjo

there’s a lot to learn
about this twangy contraption
of mahogany and rosewood
mylar and steel
screwed together like an ikea end-table

i’m cramming my head
with musical knowledge
of strings and frets
chords and rolls
the gray matter’s working extra hard

but my fingers
my poor fumbling fingers
like beer-bellied sluggards
trying olympic gymnastics
scoff, you call what you’re doing learning?

brain, please

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