I disassembled the tape recorders
so I could collect their secrets.
I have the motors and capstans
and so many other little magnetic bits
in a small pile on my desk,
but I can’t seem to find what I need
anywhere in the mess. Outside
it rains like cigarette smoke
trapped in a small car. The rain
is why we have the roof. The shame
is why we have the clothes. Everything
is just an escape from something else.
Nicholas Bon lives in Georgia, where he edits Epigraph Magazine. You can find his recent poems in Spy Kids Review, Sea Foam Mag, Ghost City Review, and elsewhere. Visit him online at www.nicholasbon.com.