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.