Needle
drops onto the worn, deep groove
Top of the Billboard for years, but
we can’t dance to it
Volume turned down or cranked up to shatter the windows,
it is cacophony that never ceases,
even in slumber, it blares in our heads
The bass rumbles in your soul
shaking our bodies apart slowly in time
Change the station and it’s the same Musak
only some of us can hear
This is the rhythm of our life,
skipping and stuck
until the needle is lifted.
Christel Marchand Aprigliano
www.theperfectd.com