summmarizing poem

Ode to a Crossfader

by John Murillo

Got this mixboard itch

This bassline lifted

from my father’s dusty wax

Forty crates stacked in the

back of the attic This static

in the headphones Hum

in the blood This deep-

bass buckshot thump

in the chest These knuckles’

nicks and nightsweat rites

Got reasons and seasons

pressed to both palms Two

coins from each realm This

memory memory cross-

faded and cued This blood

in the crates in the chest

in the dust Field hollers

to breakbeats My father’s

dust My father’s dust Got

reasons Got nightsweats

and hollers Pressed to both palms

Stacked crates of memory

memory Fade This wax

This frantic abacus of

scratch Got reasons

in the dust Got reasons

in the chest Got seasons

in the blood In the head-

phones Hum This deep-

bass buckshot blood

Pressed to both palms Got

reasons and reasons