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Stardom

I hadn't seen Tom
in over five years
and when I did
he was missing an arm.
"It happened in Kansas," he said.
"On a machine called a Hay Baler."
I leaned forward
on the kitchen table
trying to see inside
where he had knotted the sleeve.
Where his elbow should have been.
"Check this out," he said,
and with his remaining hand
began tapping a beat
on the kitchen table.
"Not bad," I said.
"Yeah, I'm going to be a drummer,"
he said.
"Like that guy from Def Leopard."
He then proceeded
to go into a drum solo,
hitting imaginary cymbals
around the kitchen light
before going back to the snare drum
somewhere near his left shoulder.
"You're a star," I said.
Tom smiled, now back in the verse.
"You ever see a Hay Baler?" he asked.
"You wouldn't believe
what these fucking blades look like."

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