Sunday, March 6, 2011

Vinyl Sadness

They say the piano used to catch on fire when he played
but that’s what you’d expect from a man who burned like Styrofoam.

The airplanes used to fly low over cheap houses
surrounded by scotch broom and coyotes
when we still listened to those old keys
on scratched records that never caught aflame—
but when the volume was turned up
you could feel the vinyl sadness
like Ben-Gay on your nether regions.

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