First Time
a friend over at his place
put headphones over
my ears because it
was the seventies
and I was eleven
and never worn them before.
The rich friend says “Listen,”
as he puts the black mufflers
over my ears,
the thump, thump, thump,
the voices without shortwave
crackle or click of scratches,
and now
in the next century
a kind of Dark Side
Of the Moon everywhere,
giant footfalls as if I’m the shrinking
man, the scratch of flies feet,
high heels in the next street,
Earth moving at 140 miles an hour
beneath my feet
because my ear operation worked.
© 2017, Paul Brookes
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