If It's Thursday, I Must Be Tingling...

All this talk of music,
bands, CDs,
albums, still for me,

reminds me of undergrad days,
Boston and Aerosmith
on 8-tracks still.

Open dorm windows,
wafting of smoke
and crashing or chiming guitars.

I was pretty then,
truly a miracle
of hair and bell bottoms.

What fun, what tingles of memory
come to me now,
and the deliciousness of youth.

Why then do my college students
seem so dull,
so blank.

I was no great scholar, but
there was some spark in me,
I think. Maybe it's too long ago

for me to know for sure,
to remember how I really was,
oh those days ago.

Maybe my old proffies
feared and hated me.
Stranger things are missing from my mind.

But, music,
lovely sounds,
bracing rhythms.

When students love music, I feel
a kinship with them.
I trust them more.

I understand that.

I bemoaned one day
that nobody props huge speakers
in open dorm windows now,

just ear buds in everyone's holes,
their owners sullenly stomping around campus,
looking down at phones.

"Couldn't you," I said,
at least split a bud with a friend, [see what I did there...]
one ear each,

'More than a Feeling' glittering
between you?"
You'd have thought I had 2 heads.