Press Record

Rewind, 33, 'The lost'. At least that's what it said on the ticket.

Hand-cranked, lonely for love after yet another broken record,

The DJ quite, quite sure what was gonna play next

A loose hair causing the crackle, a look through the file cards

And you might have missed the remix that they put out on

Friday Nights

Then 45, rising each morn, an established breeze blowing

An established morning routine, children off to primary,

Wife off to hospital.  Wife off to hospital. Wife off to hospital.

Children off to primary. An established mourning routine.

Work passes, unimportant. Times speeds up

The message is garbled

78, I'm imagining here. Obsolete, modern arms don't

Seem to reach all the way to the centre, wherein

Kids off on adventures, building lives, sending notes

Works beginning afresh, new jacket new tastes

New crash course in modern parlance

Lifting a digit, at a time