Radio

When I was a kid I listened to the radio late at night. I tuned it
low as I could and put my ear right up next to it because my dad
didn't like it. He'd say, "Turn off that radio. It's after midnight!"
No matter how low I tuned it he could still hear, from down the
hall and through two closed doors. He was tired. It had been a
long day and this was just one more thing, the final thing, keep-
ing him from the sleep, the absolute dead silence he wanted. As
for me, whatever music I was listening to, some rock station way
down on the border, probably, "100,000 watts of pure power,"
has become even more faint over the years. But I can still hear it.

 

Louis Jenkins, Before You Know It: Prose Poems 1970-2005 (Will O’ the Wisp Books, 2009)