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Juliana 1d
Static.
Wind blowing.
Lines passing
and passing
and passing.

Freedom.

He turns on the radio.
David Allen Coe.
The perfect country song.
The new country is ****
he says.

We get him a Taylor Swift
album for his birthday.
He laughs, but I love it.
She's fun, she's happy.

And then it starts.
First with Taylor.
Then the Jonas Brothers,
And One Direction.

And then, it's my turn.
Troye Sivan, R5,
James Arthur.

The radio is no longer
Filled with comfort.
Cardi B, Sia,
Endless DJs,
and names yet to
Be heard from again.

Some, yes,
I come to like eventually,
But most,
Foreign noise in a
formally safe atmosphere.

No longer is the wind
messing up my hair.
Now the windows
are barricaded,
Refusing to let the
melody be silenced.

But every so often.
I will go back into that safe place,
Into a different chair,
The windows down,
Music so loud that
I can't even hear him singing,
And I will sing along too,
To the perfect country song.
Trout Sep 2
Change watts, for sale, for sale
Oil on the stop sign rubs out the words
Ventriloquist of a devil Jesus mannequin
Behind the ***** window muted colors
Hearing Radio Disney at night and seeing none of it until I’m older
But now my bus died on the phone
Ashley Kaye Sep 2
Are you
the lonely wailing on the radio
or a smile for the screen

The strings do they pull
upward
or down
poor corners of your mouth
sore fleshy cheeks

leave the bone below for your own mind
Cream teeth molded to what the you believed
they want of you

Woman or man or he or she or him or they their
We admonish expectation.
September 2, 2019
Ken Pepiton Aug 13
nuero
tribal tales, too many memories here,
tuning
to the story channel
...
said Noah to his grandpa,

nah,
Methusalah say,

I expect they imagined this
fixes next,

wait and see,
times like these,

they pass. Build the box.
Radioman, and old voice
c May 16
I’m waiting
For a three word echo
But all I hear
Is radio silence
And my ears are ringing
Like the heavy air
Before a thunderstorm
Bummer May 7
I'll **** my misery with a radio.
I wear black and red.
I hate how loud silence can be,
that's me inside your head.
alice Apr 1
the old radio is broken again
wish we never bought it
time to beat it
and beat it
until it plays songs like a normal radio should


who even cares about an old and broken radio?
I feel like an old radio
Erian Apr 1
as the lyrics come to a pause
when the rhythm departs in the air
all is left is the broken radio
and tears dried as fair
Oculi Mar 12
A car moving too fast.
A mirror, broken into a million pieces.
3 and a half years of your life, wasted.
Sounds of a shattered record.
The grunt of disgust.
That god-awful word, uttered again.
The repeating days, over and over.
The same morning, the same day.
The same afternoon, the same night.
A beast with a verdant colored head.
Another one with grey scales over his eyes.
Is it worth it?
Did I put enough work in?
Only time will tell.
The smile and embrace of a brother.
The reassuring words of a lover.
You're enough. Let it go.
And so, you don't drink poison any longer.
You breathe free. You feel smells.
You touch the grass.
You're loved.
Just because you let go.
You look back at the monstrosities, that threatened you in the night.
They are all gone, wallowing in their own sickening pride.
But you ride your fast car.
You made your decision.
You left tonight, you'll live and die another way.
Thank you, Tracy. Thank you, Jim.
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