Spinning

And who knew nothing had to come before?
Record spins from outside in.
And in how many ways can I say the same thing?
But altered–
Like lengthy jeans in the hands of Korean seamstress next door to the donut shop.
And how many noises will I contemplate before settling down?
Like my grandparents in some Levittown 1960s America.
Crosby, Sinatra, Taylor.
And don’t you know those burning stars are long dead?
Just as
Those burning scars adorn your leg.
I dread and dread and still
Sit here idling
Idly
I’d leave
If somewhere was where you wanted me.
Momentary skips bring scratchy silence
As Ray comforts me and I spin
My own life
from outside in

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