Bryan Borland

In the days before iTunes,
I courted every song released

as a single. Cassettes were $1.99
with the radio hit

and a throwaway B-side
that saw less play than my high school girlfriend.

I made Billboard lists ranking lips
to ass, my crushes paired with albums, my own

Hot 100. These are things
you need to know, children:

that all the music in the world
wasn’t available with a point and click,

that the relationships we cultivated
with our idols lasted longer

than a television season. That we made love
and gods of our rock stars

who knew what we needed to hear,
what we needed to say

to the boy next door who we imagined
watched as we replaced our tongue-tied muzzles

with the confidence
of a hairbrush microphone.

© Bryan Borland