Waiting

I wait on the edge of a dream moving through
boxes and boxes of vinyl old
beneath my fingers
flip flip I watch the faces around me smiling
yet angry as they clean and shine and keep moving
like busy ants without a purpose
and I flip flip through each colored cardboard
thick with unplayed songs
as I havent the device
to make them sing
and I want a few to take along with me
but don’t know who to ask
for I don’t belong here
anymore in this place with these faces
that don’t mean much
just the droning of movement that keeps me
from my selections as I flip flip through
a hundred boxes of vinyl set aside
because no one wants nor remembers
their existence except for me
because it is a piece of my formative years
with bright orange stickers
won like the lottery in a radio show
where the caller become the right caller
and I hold it in my hands
smelling the aroma of mildew and wonder
as I awaken
just how did I get there
and what does it mean now
that I’m awake
but I dreamt in black and white
and the man was there giving orders
and I sat alone
but he has become me and I him
and so I wait for a sign
a word as I try to catch his eye
on whether or not
I can take a record home.

Stream of consciousness thought upon waking from a dream I had.