augury doggerel

Wednesday, April 24, 2002


When I was old enough to work a record player, no one minded that I closed the door and dragged a diamond over old vinyl. I had a wonderful time experimenting with the speed setting. The bad songs were still fun at 16 and 331/3 and 78, and the good songs made me sing and dance by myself.

We had no children�s records. I took possession of a stack of 45s that had become too boring for my older brother and sister. I sang about whorehouses and wanted criminals and lust for underage girls and religious conversion and social inequity, and always about love lost and love slavery, unshakeable love and love that cannot be shaken. They were records for teenagers.

When I was a bit older and selecting my own popular garbage � the same words fit to other rhythms and sung by other costumes � the old 45s became physical embarrassments to me as they had become to my brother and sister. Starting with one that was too cracked to play anymore, I found that they flew nicely, so I threw them all, one by one, over the field adjoining our land, testing my small muscles with each discus.

The field has since been plowed and harvested many times. The records must be shards under the earth, the winter and summer, the corn and fallow and wheat. I still sing the songs to myself sometimes. The words still don't mean anything.


Post a Comment

<< Home