10-4-2022

 i have a wall of cassette tapes. Recently as they stared

not so blankly from their wooden cases, i realized that they

contain many memories: some fond and others of dared

moments best left unexplored. Still, i was curious, you might say.

So, i started listening to them and transferring them from silence

to computer files, thinking i might find something to move you

to laughter or perhaps just a smile on your birthday. Per chance

you even have some of these recordings in a case of your own. You do?

Well, i admit they are like my memories that come up on repeat 

whenever we get together. i know in my advancing age

i repeat myself, and not because i am under stress to complete

my thought. The grooves that were once vinyl skip page

by page. The rhythm of the ticking reminds that the record is over,

but i let it go on longer than i should just for the soothing nature

of it. Warren Zevon, Jonathan Richman, The Roches, Cover

versions of them we played together. All passing muster

the minute after they were recorded, but sounding butt-ugly now.

Sometimes time loops like a flail: just to remind us who is laughing, wow.

 

Upon receiving a postcard from a stranger 

There was a time when i would get postcards from friends

and family on vacation and though the purveyors of the cards

always sold them using "Wish you were here" as the hook,

everyone one knew it was the seed of the facebook age's

"look how much fun i am having without you" subtext.

But even that had some semblance of love in the personal

message that came on the back of the postal missive.

Now i get requests to buy my house from people i don't know and

though Robert Frost's "Provide Provide" rings in my ears

I want to respond to the card without getting umpteen more treekilling requests.

In the words of Daryll Hall, dear Sender, you want "five minutes of what's

taken me a lifetime."

In the words of John Gorka, dear Sender, "I just want to make enough to buy this town and keep it rough." 

I know you want to buy my house and bulldoze it and put up a house too large 

for the land it is on to sustain it. And that dear sender, is why i will never ever

sell it to you.

Wish you were here,

Pluto Corsini