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Poem of the Week - 'The Trumpet Teacher's Curse' by Kim Moore

The Trumpet Teacher's Curse

A curse on the children who tap the mouthpiece
with the heel of their hand to make a popping sound
who drop the trumpet on the floor and then laugh,
a darker curse on those who fall with a trumpet 
in their hands and selfishly save themselves,
a curse on the boy who dropped a pencil 
on the bell of his trombone to see if it did
what I said it would, a curse on the girl
who stuffed a pompom down her cornet
and then said it was her invisible friend who did it,
a curse on the class teacher who sits at the back
of the room and does the paperwork,
a curse on the teacher who says I'm rubbish at music
in a loud enough voice for the whole class to hear,
a curse on the father who coated his daughter's trumpet valves
with Vaseline because he thought it was the thing to do,
a curse on the boy who threw up in his baritone
as if it was his own personal bucket.
Let them be plagued with the urge to practise
every day without improvement, let them play
in concerts each weekend which involve marching
and outdoors and coldness, let their family be forced
to give up Saturdays listening to bad music 
in village halls or spend their Sundays at the bandstand,
them, one dog and the drunk who slept there the night before
taking up the one and only bench. Gods, let it rain. 

A witty, sharp, and passionate poem from Moore's second collection of poetry, The Art of Fallingwhich also features her poem 'Tuesday at Wetherspoons', winner of the 2011 Geoffrey Dearmer prize. Available to buy on our website.

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