Solo by Kwame Alexander

Solo by Kwame Alexander Blade never asked for a life of the rich and famous. In fact, he’d give anything not to be the son of Rutherford Morrison, a washed-up rock star and drug addict with delusions of a comeback. Or to no longer be part of a family known most for lost potential, failure, and tragedy, including the loss of his mother. The one true light is his girlfriend, Chapel, but her parents have forbidden their relationship, assuming Blade will become just like his father. In reality, the only thing Blade and Rutherford have in common is the music that lives inside them. And songwriting is all Blade has left after Rutherford, while drunk, crashes his high school graduation speech and effectively rips Chapel away forever. But when a long-held family secret comes to light, the music disappears. In its place is a letter, one that could bring Blade the freedom and love he’s been searching for, or leave him feeling even more adrift.

like two special edition book covers keeping our secret story I imagine she jumps into my arms. We kiss. Our lips like two special edition book covers keeping our secret story safe inside the history book of greatest loves. I tell her I’m leaving, she insists she’s going with me. And that we’re never coming back. We’ll compose some deep cuts-- flip the script-- our B-side in a place that’s just ours. The narrator has to leave to go to West Africa. He just got a tattoo of his girlfriend name.

The way a busted bird sings. The ending of the world. The wailing of Crying Ever heard the sound of goodbye? The way a door closes. The way a deer looks. The way a busted bird sings. The ending of the world. The wailing of a hollowed heart. The heart is a small and lonesome place she is a country her eyes hold the river I used to swim her skin, the morning fruit I touched and tasted the heart is a small and lonesome place she is a country I no longer live in. The narrator discovers his girlfriend is cheating on him.

Leaving LA I won’t miss the Hollywood Hills, the palm trees, the fake city and its manufactured lights. I won’t miss the blood suckers, those paparazzi, and the tabloid news, shame because of my name, or even those sunsets over Santa Monica Pier. I won’t miss this pain that will never leave. I won’t miss the music under the trees or the feeling of finding my own safe place to breathe. And now, I won’t miss her. (Page 190-202)

Extension What is the mood of “I imagine?” Identify an example of simile or metaphor. What do the two things have in common? How do you interpret “The heart?” What message is the author trying to get across? What are three distinct images he describes in “Leaving LA?” What is the significance of the final line?