The Scattershot Ballad of Classical Napalm

Deep in a distant fourth-dimension land

Was the first time that I played the passionate fan

Of a low-tuned, lack-talent teen garage band.

A couple years later, perhaps a touch brighter

In my eight year of being an unfinished-novel writer,

I thought up one plot to thrill me, and another to excite her,

A fiction-universe foundation, should I manage to write her.

When I was still near-to-beer-age (twenty three years, by name),

Some friends started a band, but their handle was lame.

I decided that should I ever want to form one of the same,

I'd have Classical Napalm set metal aflame.

Fresh off seeing my best character play baseball, where it led,

My worst unfinished novels cleared from my head,

I set work on semi-fictional teen years instead,

I reminisce, connection, and appellation all to bed,

and in fiction does Classical Napalm forge ahead.

Now a moment of noise, and raise your devil-fists

For a hard-rock/metal/punk band that doesn't exist.

All Hail Classical Napalm!