the purists
will say
that nothing quite
matches the warm rich
tones like vinyl
as the metal stylus
gently rides tight
grooves in slight
undulating waves.
maybe you remember
similar nights or days
drinking cheap beer
while sitting on the floor
surrounded
by dust-jackets
of your favorite
bands
arguing the merits
of certain riffs
over others
as “stairway” played
on max volume
and nicotine-stained
fingers strained
to play those
air-guitar notes across
faded jeans
unable to keep pace
with jimmy’s inspired licks.
it all seemed to click
so simply back
then
(wouldn’t you agree?)
gliding along the track
as one of the pack
never worried about the next
wave that’s sure
to come along.
and though those songs
do remain the same
too many days
and nights
all strung together
like links of a chain
have changed the landscape
blurring and blunting
the sharper
edges of those sweet
recollections —
and anything that might
still be left to say.
