Unheard at 78 rrrpm

She rolled her Rs

Onto my adolescent sands,

Unfurled them there like waves

Finishing into nothing

Just as at last

Her sad arthritic hands

Released their hold.

I expect she just fell and shattered-

She would have been very brittle

On bakelite.

At 33 on flexi vinyl

Back she rolled outdated Rs

Played in cars

On neat cassettes

Sang in shiny winey bars

Accented English No Regrets

...................................................................

Piaf-rescued from street corner

By Japanese transistor

Each sadness i pod sanitised

In stereo graphically equalised,

Her act cleaned up.

No jumping now the crackling groove

The sparrow is caged

By electric fences.

................................................................

Piaf, forever rolling in her Rs

Assaulting indecently beyond vocabulary

To give flower Nature

A harsher perfume

And all hollow living

A longing for tears.