Let's workshop this poem about a man so overcome with his lost youth that he cannot bear to listen to the oldies playlist his daughter made for him while he sits through the long hours of chemotherapy
Charon's Playlist
Songs of youth dug up
too many buried
dreams and regrets;
they mushed his face in it,
in how fast it all went,
too deeply for him
to indulge his bubbly daughter
and sit there
through the chemo
hours listening
to an Mp3 device she loaded
with Blue Oyster Cult.
“We need books that affect us like a disaster, that grieve us deeply, like the death of someone we loved more than ourselves, like being banished into forests far from everyone, like a suicide. A book must be the axe for the frozen sea within us.”—Kafka (against the safe-space cancel culture pushed by anti-art bullies, left and right)