#259: Thirteen Views of Listening to A Song

37104-vinyl1

I
With my eyes closed,
the lyrics become more vivid–
like icicles in my fingers.

II
Bouncing up and down
on a pogo stick, the drummer
has all of my limbs and I have hers.

III
I watch that wave come up,
a shimmering, a crescendo:
some nonsense makes me cry a little.

IV
A man and a woman
hear this song.
A man and a woman and a song
make a crazy sound, like cymbals.

V
The steering wheel becomes
my instrument; people look at me
and smile as they pass.

VI
Sometimes, a loop occurs
in the memory; the mind hears
that song even while it’s asleep.

VII
I don’t know if I prefer
this song at 33 rpm or 45.
This becomes a weighty matter.

VIII
Listening to colored vinyl
makes this song better,
there’s a tone unique to transparent green
or matte orange.

IX
I can’t remember the last time
I hated a song.

X
I’ve heard this song
ten times in a single week
in various stages of inebriation,
but I chose that.

XI
Sometimes a song comes on
in a public place, and you know it
but don’t know it.
That hurts a little.

XII
Is there something to
the fact that the artists I love
keep getting younger and younger?

XIII
I keep listening. Everything
could be caving in, or simply flying,
or marvelously indifferent,
but I keep listening.

2 Comments

Filed under Poetry

2 responses to “#259: Thirteen Views of Listening to A Song

  1. Wallace Stevens would have been pleased

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