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POEM: Alvin, Simon, Theodore

Alvin, Simon, Theodore

I can’t remember
what your voice sounds like, but that’s OK:
I forget what my voice sounds like, too.
I used to have a tape of my first radio job.
My grandpa made it on the boom box
he kept beside his easy chair.
I always joke that I sounded like one of the Chipmunks.
What I really sounded like was a kid.
Twenty-one, no clue what was coming,
only a dim understanding of what had already passed.
Anyway, I’m writing all this
because I found a recording of you.
I didn’t recognize your voice at all.

/ / /

19 June 2025
Charlottesville, VA

Published in My poems Poem-A-Day 2025 Poetry Radio

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