Discman
| filed under: Poem, Discman, Minidisc, PoetryIt's funny to find odd little treasures like this poem. I mean, what was it about the discman that made me feel like writing a poem?
this morning i made
a sacrifice to the gods
the discman to the tile
floors by my feet in the
john, and it might have
well broken for the hold
button that saves the batts
broke and now the discs
are always spinning
discs are moving, rumbling
through their little sambas
until the record stops whirring
and the music stops purring
©1996 chris abraham