My Aural History

Chronological With Timely Revelations

Adolescence arrived
the day Kurt Cobain died.
I never got over this.
I never got to hear
Live and Unplugged
without that prejudice.

Metallica’s hair died
months before they
became my first concert.
Not cynical enough (yet)
to call them
sellouts-
I still bought a shirt.

Some of my hearing died
that first Warped Tour.
AFI ended their set
with two Misfits covers.
My tinnitus
is a souvenir.

Some of my
brain cells died
via stage dive
at The Icon…
…who was playing again..?
Did I look cool
blacked out
on the dance floor then?

My twenties died
kicking and screaming
in basements
so underground
that they informed
the myopia
against any other sound.

My pretense finally died
and it was okay
to dig Fleetwood Mac.
Rumours…
…Lindsey and Stevie’s
demise soundtracked.

I have learned to listen
when music is talking.
I used to ignore it
like a parent
but it was patient with me.
It is absolutely ironic
how little I used to hear.

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