Overheard at Table 4: Requiem for the Radio DJ

Requiem for the Radio DJ

Is there even a Radio DJ around anymore?
Maybe lying around some where on some station
in the middle of the desert, driving through the night,
headed high speed, to make it to the city by sunrise,

and a gravel voice of some old audiophile, who
is semi-retired and still a little sloppy from his
day-drinking, but who spins the stax of wax

of tunes you hadn't heard since you were
knee-high to an bird's eye,

and the songs sing you down the road,
broken white lines sliding underneath the
headlights, you

crack the window to let in some of the
night air, crisp and cool from the slow release
of heat captured from the long forgotten sundown,

and where is that DJ?
where did he go?
did he slither behind the shadow of the mountain?
is he asleep at the wheel?

are you?





MR
2019-0909