here I sit
again
as the radio announcer
says, “for the next
3 hours we will be listening
to a selection of?”
it’s now eleven p.m.
I’ve listened to this man’s
voice
for many many years.
he must be getting quite
old.
his station plays the best
classical
music.
I don’t recall how many
women I have lived with
while listening to that
announcer,
or
how many cars I’ve
owned
or how many places I’ve
lived in.
now each time I hear his
voice I think, well, he’s still
alive, he sounds good
but the poor fellow must be
getting very old.
some day
he’ll have his funeral,
a little trail of cars
following
the hearse.
and then
there’ll be
a new voice
to listen to.
he must be very old now,
that fellow,
and every time I hear his voice
again
I pour a tall one
to salute him
happy that he’s made it
for one more
night
along with me.
