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I played trumpet in the band In 7th grade, blasting out songs At football games and fall parades We'd ride the bus To the small towns like Winfield, Downsville, and Colfax In purple jackets and white slacks We were the Braves We were the Jack Hayes Braves Named after a dead administrator And the noble ideal Of the young Native American male School ambassadors Of popular song and good will Mr. Minifield Was our director, skin the color Of a brown paper sack, he was black Trying to teach us white kids to play But confronted every baton-breaking day By juvenile delinquents, like Danny Amos Who locked himself into Minifield's office, With my Ted Nugent double album; Playing "Wang Dang Sweet Poontang" Full-blast over the bandroom speakers And I remember Minifield, just sitting there Staring out into the air From the podium, smoking a camel Looking straight ahead Imagining himself Somewhere else, I'd guess Where he'd be getting paid More for less B.S. Tomorrow morning We'd be marching through What's ahead from what's behind Just another step in time Valerie Played clarinet 13 going on 35, sexy In a hard way, like a 1st cigarette, Bourbon spilled on a bare thigh (You could say she was ahead of the game) She'd barely speak to me So that 2-hour ride Felt like an all-day tense erotic dream, Staring out at the pine trees and red clay, And the country stores where inevitably An old dough-faced man would be standing outside Staring at us like his life going by And was that her leg, was that her leg Just brushing against mine? Riding on the bus Sitting next to Valerie Thrash Between what's ahead, what's behind Just another step in time The morning was cold The silver bell of my horn shining back Convex reflections of faces and hands And the yellow smear of the bus While I blew out my spit valve, Put the wax on my braces We were getting ready to play, Standing in line, moving in formation. First up, a Stevie Wonder song called Sir Duke, About Ellington (I didn't know that then), Chameleon by Herbie Hancock Jungle Boogie by Kool and the Gang, K.C. and the Sunshine Band Get Down Tonight That's when I saw them at the end of the block Imperial Knights of the Ku Klux Klan In their white dunce caps And robes with red crosses Embroidered on Like gilded leaves on an automatic rifle Or an image of the suffering Christ Airbrushed on the side of a missile In broad daylight; Donald Lovelady said He thought they only came out at night Like an apparition, Blood-real in the silver sun Between what's ahead, what's behind Just another step in time They were handing out tracts To the Caucasian mothers and daughters And fathers and sons of Colfax Laughing and joking, kneeling down, Placing a gentle hand on a child's blonde head Like Santa Claus, or the pope Like this was normal, like this was okay Another doo-dah day down in dixieland He didn't say a word, Minifield didn't turn his head Just kept marching Looking straight ahead Looking straight ahead Like there was somewhere better He was going But this was the only goddamned way to get there Today, with his baton in the air Looking straight ahead Straight ahead... |