Stockholm Syndrome for the Early Pandemic

the silver bass guitar hangs on the wall 
a life preserver on a transport ship

I remember notes so low unplugged
the mic on Zoom & Google Classroom 

couldn’t pick up La Grange, Ceremony,
endless runs through scales & permutations 

our cats crossed keyboards and kids
passed waving through backgrounds

but when we show only heads & shoulders
we could be rock stars, could’ve been

dying, afloat and silent behind our screens
clutching life preservers just off camera

I strum grateful fingers over thick strings
a warm and friendly rumble fading as I leave

to go back to work, begin the long uncertain
swim back to newly strange familiar shores

James Brush

James Brush is a teacher and writer who lives in Austin, TX. He tries to get outside as much as possible.

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