Wednesday, June 9, 2010

the record collection

she was thinking about his record collection
when it happened   so sudden   a sharp pain
like a bandaid being ripped off    no    worse
a stab wound (& should we take out the blade?
would it be better to leave it in    or worse?)
she was thinking how she wished he'd order it
somehow    categorize all those faces
those people with lives and lovers and pets
who also happened to put out albums
how they should go in some sort of order
and not lie around the apartment stacked up in piles
(don't they get wrecked that way?  it doesn't matter now;
everything's wrecked)    she was thinking
about this haphazard collection of songs from
all of those people    when the letter
the scrap of paper announcing his departure
sat clenched in her hands, opened at last
to a few apologetic words and a cleared out closet
and all these records just lying around.

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