There’s days when all I do is think
About what I could have done
What I could have said
What I will do tomorrow
What I want to say before I’m dead
As if my life is some radio station
And I am the DJ
Lifting the needle
Trying to choose the perfect album
The perfect song
With just the right words
For the audience to sing along
But instead
Indecision
A commercial break followed by
Radio silence
Awkward glares through the studio glass
The sound guy waving his arms in exasperation
While I flip through the albums
Slowly
Oh look at the cover of this one!
I’ve played this record a thousand times
But never noticed the album cover until now
How the singer looks just like that invisible kid
The one that sells newspapers every day
Down on the street below
With no shoes
The producer is freaking out
As I walk out of the booth
Grinning ear to ear
On my way to the front entrance
And out the door to the street
To show that kid
That today
He is the image and likeness of a well-known rock star
(Who by now is old enough to be his grandpa)
I know…
It won’t make anything better
But it may be good for a chuckle
And when I see his smile
No words spoken
Just his surprise at being…
Seen
That’s when I know
I’m walking home barefoot
And I’m no longer the DJ
I’m not even the album
Nor am I the song
Today
I am the needle
