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