I Must Have Liked that Song
“Write a feeling,” the trainer requests, “for this reflection in your story.” She pauses. “Now, write a song.”
No notes. No words. No song.
Nothing, only silence, comes to mind.
--
Hand hits the radio button
Sound blasts from the speaker
Not for this song
but the last song
playing.
It’s normal to forget
To disconnect
How could I
Why did I
Turn the volume loud?
I don’t remember
which song,
but
I must have liked,
that song.
Hand twists the radio button round
To the.
Because the?
Right
Volume rises from the speaker.
I tell myself
For this-
I like-
this song.
A little bit tired of trying to care when I don't
A little bit tired of quick repairs to cope
Cool plastic. Cold winter.
Gray sky smooths to black
Fingers spin
Before my mind.
I was just here
on this station.
Somehow on straight paths paused,
I turn to the.
Return to a place?
I left.
The question lingers on final notes.
I ask myself
To notice
Do I really like
Any song?
There’s two sides to every story.
One’s a lie and one’s the truth.
Fingers grip a steady wheel.
Two hands. Safe space. No reach.
It is my plan to linger here
Except one hand releases
One eye darts
Right.
To click the arrow
Change the station
I ask myself
I remind myself
Why I.
How I.
Where I?
Arrived.
If I wasn’t listening with the volume up
Because
I liked
that song.
Automatic
Despite my feelings
Auto pilot
Despite my speed
All I know is-
What I’m told is-
If the volume’s loud
I must have liked that song.