Imago’s Radio

There Imago was

Crashed flat out

face to the sky on a hill

of sun shredded grass,

Patches of smoke

pausing like elephants

big ears open to the wild fyrs furling.

Listening she was Listening she was

for a kindness for a kindness

to pass to pass

on

onandonandonandonandon (fade out).

She wrote in her diary.

She wrote:

“another hot day

I love the blues

but we need some rain

the trees all stressed

took a long walk

found a park

on a hill full with dry grass

I stretched out and fell

asleep

I don’t know for how long

maybe just a moment or so

but when I awoke

there he was

sitting on a park bench

across the way

writing something

in his pocket notebook

‘what is it?’ I asked

‘ants in the grass,’

he sd.

‘What do you want

to do for dinner?’

I asked him.

‘Pesto braised

free range

chicken,’ he sd,

as if.

‘I’ve some hamburger

helper on the shelf,

I think,’ I sd.

‘We can eat it

without the hamburger

again’

‘Have you heard

the new Elvis song?’

‘I like Elvis’s early stuff,

when you could still hear

the instruments, a guitar,

a riff or two.’

‘I don’t know

where I’d be

without my radio

what I’d do.’

Radio Radio Radio Radio Radio Radio Radio Radio Radio
Radio Radio Radio Radio Radio Radio Radio Radio Radio
Radio Radio Radio Radio Radio Radio Radio Radio Radio
Radio Radio Radio Radio Radio Radio Radio Radio Radio
(0000)(0000)(0000)(0000)(0000)(0000)(0000)(0000)(0000)
(0000)(0000)(0000)(0000)(0000)(0000)(0000)(0000)(0000)
+++                                                                           +++
+++                                                                           +++
+++                                                                           +++