Fishboy
I am a volunteer DJ
At a radio station
Whose transmission stretches
Only five miles
And though I agree the form’s obsolete
I feel that I need to perform with style
Simultaneous playlists
In a red spiral notebook
Of internet treasures
And crate digging gems
And sad as it seems they would feel more complete
If I had both the time and means to hear all
That there is
But I may never know
No I may never know
And my favorite album
I found in the basement
Of a gently used bookstore
A local release
And twenty years since
I’m still not convinced
That an album exists that means that much to me
They were Mid 70’s rockers
They vanish completely
But I own all of their records
The whole discography
And don’t get me wrong it’s ok that they’re gone
But I feel like they stopped before reaching their peak
And we may never know
No we may never know
And in the bookstore last night
I saw the singer of the band stand in line
I must admit I didn’t dare waste his time
I stood and watched as he was selling LPs
To the register teen
Somewhat relieved and impressed
Fifty dollars fifty dollars at best
And a baby is crying in the back bedroom
I write in my notebook
As she gets rocked to sleep
Someday you’ll find the best songs of all time
May they be priceless and worthless
Like all the best things