One day, my Dad solemnly
turned on the radio. He turned
to me and said, “This is Queen.”
A formal introduction to the
soundtrack of my college years.
I had a disdain for Top 40, and
was never cool enough to listen
to rap. Something about my
long hair and good-girl persona
prevented other genres from
sticking so effectively. But I could
adore Queen, ZZ Top, and AC/DC.
They formed the background for
my Shakespeare studies, and the
last-minute essays of undergrad.
I need to go back to the silence now.
Listening to the quiet is scary
and only echoes the emptiness.
A television and computer makes
a lot of noise to keep me from
Whoever I am, it isn’t what I’m
supposed to be. And homework
can quiet individuality and self.
I wonder who I’ll be without
a to-do list? Will I exist without
tasks to accomplish, or a list
of goals tattooed on my forearm?