I started looking for you again. I found an empty glass. An old haircut. Some evidence you were here. I looked around again. There was a guitar. A brush. A smile you used to wear. But i did not find you. I looked around again. There was writing. There were words. I read them and you emerged. I did not mean to keep you waiting so long. I did not mean to misplace you.
In which a long-time record collector and sometimes poet shares shares vinyl finds, words of worth, and plays keep or cull.
