Up A Notch

I am very bothered
when I think of all the mix-tapes
I have made over the years
to exhibit indie prowess
and pushed into chests
in return
for lovingly-compiled menageries
of sleepy/sexy/getupandgo music
that I have then left
to fester, unplayed.
Not least the time
in New Orleans,
when my homesick mewlings
were stemmed by a package
from a friend, who I wasn't that friendly with,
and who really
didn't have to. I read the note
but the tape grew a coat of dust
and I never wrote back
but sucked the thought dry
and scrumpled the jiffy bag
into an alien bin.

Please don't believe me, if I tell you
the impulse touched me, and that
I WILL listen, or if I claim that
one day I'll send you
a note, not a tape.