there goes another sad song
I don’t mind the old songs
but I want something fresh
no matter what its age
I’m flipping through forty-fives
searching for diamond or two
cute couple behind me
whispering comments about
mad magazine covers
without question new beautiful
sorrowful songs reside around here
refreshing like sparkling wine
the kind that turns your thoughts
into nothingness by way of
quiet reverberations
fast forward back home
small brown paper bag sits atop
kitchen counter
community cats returning home
chatting amongst themselves
what must be inside
december two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
jdubqca 
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