Creature Comfort

I have an iPod 5,000 songs deep,
and I listen to the same 15 songs
rotating in and out every week.
Failure, Wu-Tang- -Quicksand,
A battle between
“Delusional”, “The Nurse Who Loved Me”, maybe “C.R.E.A.M.”

I can’t pretend to exchange
comfort for change.
I’m ok with here,
I know whats next, and how it’s arranged.
Looking more and more like a soundtrack
of passing cars, texting drones with one finger on the wheel,
their foot nowhere near the brake.
Speeding along but not awake.

I don’t want your low-level hum.
Autotune, inflated drums,

Focused on the daily gnaw, and then given away.
Headphones allow these beats and progressions
to remain my own.

Not for the sake of repetition,
not worried about what you think,
my ears ring
and circling thoughts escape.