Karaoke/Amoeba - April 6th

Karaoke Nights

I want to wake up ready to leave, the stale taste of sleep
already rinsed out.

I want the morning to pass as quickly as the afternoon
wind cools off into dusk.

I want to Disneybound as a couple, but not bound as a couple.

I want to lay on my stomach and watch you from under
the crack in the door.

I want to belt out "Islands in the Stream." No, I can't
sing.  Maybe liquid courage

will want to loosen these pipes.

I want to hate the sound of my own voice,  blushing,
singing a little softer.

I want your voice
to carry mine until the last missed note & I am not

the broken chair left in the garage
not waiting to be fixed, not waiting for anything.

I want to hand her my sweat-
covered mic when we are finish and whisper

a chorus I  want to lip-sync
duets like this on days when I am not ready
in the morning, afternoon, or dusk.
Wind my way under the crack of your door
like a stream, create an island of pipes
that speak their organs for you. 



———

Amoeba

Touchable music,relics, as if hands
that can hold the songs
are only your own. I feel close the grooves
on the side of VHS tapes, as if eyes
that can see the grain
are only my own. But we never went
to Amoeba

Music never held records, VHS, hands
didn't feel the mispressings, the skipping
the warping, the unspooling. Even
the broken can be held if they are touched.