Peter Gabriel Opening My Sound Box

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We all have a soundbox but
maybe we do not call it the same thing,
or maybe you all call it something else
that I am unaware of,
and here I am again,
creating my own terms
for events and places and objects that already exist.

My soundbox has flung wide open, though,
Sledgehammer is playing on the radio (Oh
man, those pan pipes get me every time,)
and yes, I am grooving. My body is
doing that move thing, where you are sat
like a stone working, but the muscles ripple
and you gyrate on the seat, a sedentary boogie.

The soundbox being open, means being transported
to a time when that song first graced my ears,
or rather a time zone, a spot in the nostalgia
where adult intersects with childhood,
and you are lost in a swirl of past,
feeling that and feeling now.

My soundbox is massive, cavernous even!
Containing more saudade than you could ever
believe, but I do.
This music is a lifeline, this music
careens and caresses and causes
countless swathes of bees full of emotion
to buzz along my body and bring back
times that twirl toward the
past participles of that young boy,
whom I can see sat in front of a telly
transfixed on a music video
and smiling a grin that will
etch lines into his face for 30 more years.