Poem: The Radio Man

 

The Radio Man

The radio man 
casts his voice
from city lights 
out past dark skylines

where nothing stirs
but living desert
and a westbound,
flakey-paint Honda Accord.

The radio man
is so sure
about his opinions
that he transmits them.

While you puzzle,
he fully understands
all sexual dynamics—
he knows women's wants.

Real men will
agree with him:
the rising generation
is soft and entitled.

He knows things.
He even knows
what things hide
in Nevada military bases.

As you push
further down road,
his voice begins
to fade and crackle.

It's 2:45 AM
and you're listening
to the Max,
one-o-one-point-five.

The radio man
will be back
after this break
with more from Whitesnake.

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