Wednesday, January 13, 2010

Wax




The sweet crackle circles



Simultaneously with it's music.



The sound is soothing this way



I prefer black so much more than silver.



The sleeves were posters,



Instead of postcards.



How is it that the lesser technology has more soul?



There's nothing like hearing things



The way my grandfather did.



Was this scratchy soul way we wear meant to hear?







You can call me old fashioned



You can call me out of date.



But I know not just junkies



Use an arm and a needle to be set free.

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