Spinning vinyl record

Shiny grooved revolver
Aging rings of a tree,
Infinitely whirling like the hands of a clock
Propelling through time and space

Sitting amongst enlightened minds,
Friends gathering around the table
The dreamers, encapsulated by the rotating side of a 45
Listening to “What is and What Should Never Be”
A Band of Gypsies
Embracing, exploring, expressing
Fighting for a cause, it’s our right
“Come Together”
Generations whirled around
A single idea, protesting and professing

My father puffing a husky cigar, the “Cracked Actor“
Slumped on his mother’s couch.
Smoke cascading, “Blowin’ In the Wind”
Dancing to the shrill melodic pulsations of the stereo
Amplified against the world, amplified against a war
Predisposed to violence, like his father before him
A choice not made in vain, tomorrow he leaves to fight
For someone else’s cause

Click Scratch Tick
I hear a record, a recollection, a revolution
The needle piercing my soul
It’s in my veins, my blood
I am intoxicated