He played the same songs over & over
every time we got in the explorer
he didn’t want to hear anything new
For chrissakes, he begged us
his father was dead
he was going to listen
to whatever he damnwell wanted to
I didn’t put up a fight
he wasn’t a tyrant or anything
He even asked me to put something on
in the hotel room
the morning of the wake
I tried not to think about it
but I was thinking about it
I quickly limited it down to a few options
and picked indiscriminately
It was more upbeat than I expected
it sort of marched along in the background
the sound of a single trumpet
weeping over the melody
sometimes satirizing the singer
brassy and distant and cool
He gave a knod
made a comment about it
can’t remember whether it was good or bad
but it didn’t seem to bring anything to the air
we stood there in our suits
when normally we’d be sleeping
we straightened our cuffs
and waited on his girl
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment