My existence
as a forty-five
(so far):
cheap vinyl
imprinted with
a throwaway tune
played
scratched
forgotten.
Flip me over
on the turntable
Put the needle
to my groove
Crank up the volume
Hear the breakout hit
hiding on
the other side.
that cynking feeling 
Musical.
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Love it
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Reblogged this on journaldab.
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Enjoy
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I always made sure to listen to those tunes on the B side. I miss my records. It is one of my favorite pastimes as a kid…listening to records for hours.
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I remember my little silver record player and the read-along books with records. “Ding! Turn the page!”
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Throwaway tune, forgotten..lovely lines!
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The breakout hit/hiding…brilliant.
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Awesome subtle sexuality you have going on there 😉
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So subtle, I didn’t even know it was there!
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I thought you were going for it!
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It could be the new euphemism: needle in the groove.
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Yea. Lol!
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There’s an optimistic outlook on getting older. So much is going on underneath the surface. Well, that’s my interpretation of your words anyway.
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That’s what I was going for – feeling like, “Is this all there is?” yet hopeful that there is something more waiting for me.
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Like Cheney, I definitely read a subtle sexiness in this. 🙂 It’s a beautiful little poem, Cindy. I love the way you structured it – two stanzas, two sides, and even the shape is a bit like a sound wave.
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Congratulations on Yeah write #219 weekly writing challenge staff picks: microstories.
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Wonderful story!
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Love it!
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