Crusin' With Radiohead
by John M. Davis

Riding along in my automobile…
-- Chuck Berry

I’m listening to the record skippin’
over and over, for fifteen minutes,
or what seems twice that long,
and I’m thinkin’ this is what it’s like
to be on Acid or have Alzheimer’s.
Not even the disk jockey is listening.
My head’s bobbing up and down,
to the rhythm of skipping groves,
when another station cuts in,
playin’ on the same radio band,
like duelin’ banjoes,
alternatin’ with white noise and static –
one station, then the other,
radio waves phase in, phase out:
now I’m on crazy,
radio hour with Tourette’s and Echolalia.
But the night is young,
the moon is gold,
and here I am, stuck on hold,
Crusin’ and playin’ the radio
________with no particular place to go.

Illya's Honey Literary Journal

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