When I was 15, I remember buying singles like
The Lion Sleeps Tonight,  Louie, Louie,  Wild Thing,
I Got You Under My Skin…
I remember buying 45 RMP plastic speed adapters for pennies-
pressing them into the center of the records
hearing them click in place.

They were a part of my youth,
little plastic things that popped out of the pockets of my jeans
whenever my mom did the wash,

invaluable, necessary, plastic discs that appeared everywhere -
inside my jewelry box, on top of my dresser,
even in bottom of my black & white, catholic saddle-shoes…

incredible, magically, musically endowed, little middle plastic things,
like guitar-picks,

strumming radiant sounds in a back-yard universe
across the beams of a basement winter's homily
inside the space-lined ears of a bleached blond teenager

whose heart & soul
were permanently scorched.

A deathly silence filled the air,
As I stood amongst a real nightmare,
I didn’t hear a single sound,
And in that moment my heart did pound.

The large vehicle lay on its side,
Like a stricken boat caught in low tide,
It lay there not alone,
But with 13 men trapped and they started to moan.

On hearing those poor unfortunate souls,
Who must of been thrown round like rag dolls,
I ran to seek help but my legs were like lead,
But I ran and ran as I thought men were dead.

With the RMP I arrived back at the scene,
A place i will never forget that I’ve been,
With lights and noise and people all around,
The rescue of men now on the ground.

As I stood in a daze fixed on the lights and noise,
My attention did switch, I changed my poise,
I could hear a voice talking to me,
“It’s ok, sit down, they’re all alive, almost free”.

Those words were what I needed to hear,
For most of that night I was swathed with fear,
As I thought I’d killed those in my lorry,
But we all survived, eternally grateful and I’m forever sorry!