THE FINAL GROOVE

It's easy to hurt people -

too easy to get hurt

I can tell by your silence

there's something wrong

like all the silences before

a cavalcade of faces

telephone numbers whited out

in a lineage of personal directories

like a needle dragged across a record

their pages filled with muffled anecdotes

- the sound of a stereo

when heard through a closed door

And now there's you

another face - another number

guilty paranoia filtering in

with its own brand of larceny

what have I done? - asking myself

like the repeat mechanism of a turntable

deja vu filling unremovable headphones

Only one possibility reaching full volume

both a friend and an enemy who will never leave

ensuring this artist's survival

but at such cost

if there were choice - I would not pay

refuse to play this endless symphony of words

You've merely confirmed in your own artistic way

what I knew all along

having given me your victories and defeats

an album full of love songs

but as too often before

the needle has reached the final groove

and though I can play the record over -

countless times

it will never be the same

as when I first recorded it with you

© 1992 Chris Sorrenti