CD Warehouse

Yeah, I know I wrote like 3 poems last night, but this is the only one I feel like posting, at least right now. I hope you like it. Let me know your thoughts! Thanks! :-)

CD Warehouse

One of my favorite places

is the local used CD store,

the one owned by the old school

skinhead who likes to give me

hints on albums to buy

if I’m having a hard time choosing.

It starts just pulling into

the lot and parking

in front of the wall of posters

for every local show, you could

never even make all of them.

Finding the correct entrance

stepping inside and hearing

someone behind the counter,  “Hey.”

(These are so my people!)

Before your eyes are a sea

of non-pretentious black bins

crowded with new and used CDs,

a wall of new releases behind them,

all nice and categorized

for easy finding. Although once

I had to move Patti Smith

from “Pop/Rock” to her

rightful place of “Punk/Hard Rock.”

I know where all my favorite

artists are located. Dropkick Murphys,

first column, fourth row. Ducky Boys,

same bin, a few flaps down.

Minor Threat, same column, last row.

Lou Reed, second column, last row.

Way too many amazing albums

have been found in these bins.

One of my favorites: a NOFX/Rancid

split, but with Rancid covering NOFX

songs and vice versa. You have not lived

until you hear Fat Mike’s impression

of Fat Albert. Perfect.

If I’m too overwhelmed with decisions

I retreat to the Minutemen

and pick a used CD full

of 90 second songs,

that I can pretty much guarantee

that I will love.

Up to the counter, and always a

a short discussion of great

punk music while my purchase

is being processed. A friendly

“See you soon!” followed by

my least favorite part,

leaving and joining

reality again.

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