After I’d put them all together—
Assembled all the songs that I could ever need,
The kind that hoist your heart up into your throat
to fill your head with it’s improbable notions.
And the ones that drown you in the thick euphoria
of some European club, as a heaving humanity flashes
between the pulsing strobe lights and LEDs.
Those songs that gnaw at the facade, built
over time to resist any vulnerability, until it reveals
the most exposed skin from youthful innocence.
The ones that suspend you in the soft light
of a small forever, between the balmy afternoon
and the night that will recede all too quickly.
And the songs that I would blast through my
foraged walkman, four years into the apocalypse—
the acidic air spreading the waves over the shore
where I sit amongst the memories of those lost—
and still feel grateful to have existed at all.
After I’d put it all together— I named the playlist
‘tunes’.
Uncultured Review 