Cassette Tape Massacre
The cassette tape had spilled its guts on the sidewalk,
And it did not take terror or torture to make it talk,
Just an open passenger window and a casual toss.
Obliteration can be easy.
It was made by a boy with a twenty-year-old tape deck
That he had borrowed from his mother and kept forgetting to give back.
Now Ma listens to her computer, threw her tapes in the trash.
Obsolescence came so easy.
The driver’s destruction was not intended to be cruel —
She had not seen the boy since they graduated high school,
And after all it’s a ribbon of magnet and a couple of plastic spools,
Unraveling so easily.
These things unravel so easily.
She was on her way home from returning an old romantic movie
That she had not found charming — she did not see the beauty
That others had assured her she was certain to see
Upon the screen, so easily.
Sometimes you just got to throw it out the window —
That bromide you’ve been hiding like a weapon under your pillow.
That thing won’t protect you — you ought to let it go
Even though it won’t be easy.
Oh no, it won’t be easy.