the red transistor radio

i'd hold the red

transistor radio up against

my ear

as i lay in

bed.

the volume low so as not

to wake

my brother, two feet

to my left

in another bed.

i listened

to the songs

of my youth, learning

every beat,

every word

every new tune.

the beatles.

the stones.

dylan.

the dave clark five.

i'd fall asleep to them,

with the battery

dying, running low,

then wake to nothing

but the alarm

and my mother yelling

up the stairs.

you're going to be late

again.

let's go.