The Blue Transistor


It was the summer of croquet
Light my Fire (the long version)
Coming out of the blue transistor
Paths worn in the backyard grass
No one to tell us to get off the lawn

Since my father died I’d had an earache
When I finally went to the hospital
There were two nurses one to hold me
The other with a board to bite on while
The doctor raised a long needle
Then pierced the black hood of heaven
Letting in a blur then stars

About ubu507

memory documentation and manipulation
This entry was posted in Archie, Comics, Poetry, Uncategorized and tagged , . Bookmark the permalink.

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