This Is Not the Vinyl I Had in Mind

I was going to say I feel like a broken record—
skipping on depression, depression, depression.

Picture daisies in a field and me, slightly overweight
with long hair and a beard, skipping through them.

It’s that, but not happy. Instead—

I pretend to be a daisy, firmly planted
in the ground and waiting for the sun to come out.

It’s shy, like my ability to initiate sex.
And the dirt around my ankles is dry and sandy—

not the kind of thing to offer support.

I was going to say I sound like a broken record—
skipping on depression, depression, depression,

I think we can safely move past the daisies at this point.
The metaphor doesn’t work, and honestly?

I’m not sure I do anymore either.

I can’t even pretend to be on the mattress,
sunken in sheets with you riding wild—

a daisy flaying in the storm and losing leaves.
But the image just isn’t there, is it? I mean, there’s the skip.

But which foot goes forward? Am I right or left?

I was going to say I am a broken record—
skipping on depression, depression, depression,
but coiled so tightly like a clock I could explode—

a symphony of brass breaking as gears and springs sproing
into every direction but mine.

Am I even left in the middle? With not even a daisy
or the touch of you to pretend at care?

When all I have left is the lubrication
and I don’t even know what to do with that anymore.


12 responses to “This Is Not the Vinyl I Had in Mind”

  1. This is beautifully written. I seem to skip on depression as well. Being a millenial and all, maybe I’m a skipping cd rather than a record.

    1. Same honestly. But I liked the record better for the metaphor.

      1. True, I’ve always been a bit of a hipster as well, so either way is fine 🙂

      2. I grew up with cassettes and then CDs. And then of course digital. I missed the vinyl records. But largely I think because my parents were big music listeners.

        But there is just something about a vinyl records. I’ve never listened to one honestly. Should probably remedy that.

        But, the idea of records skipping and breaking fit where I was with the poem.

        Although, CDs skipping because of bumps and jolts (in the early days of cheap CD players with no skip protection) is really kind of an apt metaphor as well.


      3. I grew up with a record player and kids records like Alvin and the Chipmunks haha. So I’m very familiar with them even though I was born in 1982.

      4. Ah Alvin and the Chipmunks. And I’m not far behind (ahead of?) you. I was born in ’86.

      5. The only songs I really remember being on the Chipmunks record are the christmas song they did and Witch Doctor haha. I wish I still had it.

      6. Ha! Honestly, I think those are probably the only two that anyone remembers. Certainly the most popular ones by far.

        I’d say you could probably find a copy somewhere on Ebay or something. But that’s a kind of crapshoot. And it could be really expensive or junk. I feel like there’s seldom any in-between there.

  2. Beautifully written and your use of skipping vinyl records is spot on. I’ve listened to many of them in my life and the sound of the lines “depression, depression, depression” captures it so well.

    1. Thank you, Bobby. Good to hear that skipping depression line works as well as I had wanted it to.

  3. Really enjoy reading your work, this hits home in a big way. Thank you for your words.

    1. Thanks for reading and taking the time to comment! I’m glad it resonates with you.

Leave a Reply

Subscribe now and never miss a new post from Jacob again.

Choose whether you want to receive updates on everything or just specific categories, like new poetry or new issues of Subtext.

Continue Reading