The Last Radio Station

I try to insert my favorite CD
into the rental car stereo
but a plastic barricade
prohibits me. The thump
of plastic against plastic
is readily translated,
Since you got a cheap rental car
You must forgo good music.

Radio my only option, I hop
from spot to spot chasing away
static with my fingertips.
But I discover the static
has more depth
and diversity
and beauty
than the music I seek. So I cling

to the static, clinging
to the notion
that the last radio station
sounds like the last radio station
and the last radio station
before that. Oh, the sweet sound
of static redeems my ride.

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