Drifting into the bank, face down

waiting in line, face down

bobbing, floating,

bobbing, floating,

in and out of sleep.

in and out of line,

Wasting time on guitar solos,

dehydrated, doubling down,

and tied neatly to to the undercurrent.

Eventually the disk will be too scratched for any computer to read,

your signature is still illegible, and compartmentalized,

your satin hair,

reduced to wet wavy strings,

attracting fish and algae,

more beautiful now than ever.

Thank you for reading my mind.

If you listen closely, you can hear the rest of traffic coming to a screeching halt,

and to the disk

skip skip skip skip skip skipppppppppping.