to a bunch of small-town
alabama boys the green monster
didn't refer to the leftfield wall
at fenway park or even to
some imaginary beast lurking
below the waves of lake martin
for us the green monster
was a stereo speaker
my dad had built in college
only it was mono
for there could be only one
it was about the size of
an old-fashioned cabinet tv
and was painted a shade of green
like pond scum in summer sun
like a wasabi dollop spread thin
and dried on a dinner plate
left by the sink overnight
it was a monophonic monstrosity
hooked up to an old
harmon kardon amplifier
turntable and tape deck
and was an important influence
in my musical maturation
it introduced me and miles around
to inflated sounds of early van halen
boston kansas zeppelin and styx
when our parents weren't around
we moved the green monster
onto the front porch and cranked it
only to three-quarters never more
which still rivaled any spinal tap eleven
we turned it on for tunes to ski by
or for when we'd go across the lake
to the menzies' over a mile away
only to have their parents make us
turn around and turn that damn thing down
drew loved to use it as his reveille
blasting out billy squire's the stroke
first thing in the morning to make
everyone in the cabin jump three feet
in the air awaking from a deep sleep
and praying not to wet their pants
as drew danced around the cabin
acting out the words while screaming
the chorus stroke me stroke me
4
but best of all was listening
to carry on wayward son
loud and clear floating just off the end
of the pier a foot beneath the water
Posted by Rob on July 31, 2008
Tags: Uncategorized
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