Unfulfilled Playlist

Inside the algorithm,
no ratty-looking bloke hogs the ‘just-in’ section.
Index finger flicking past clear plastic-coated
LPs, one album at a time. Animated mouth
expressing experienced appraisal of each
and every record he encounters. Eyes
sidle to the right, beneath his 1950s shades.
Perusing other customers – rivals, coughing
in impatience, anxious to get their hands on
the goods that he’s inspecting. No army
surplus West German combat jacket,
with Bauhaus patch, sewn-on, near a badge
of Miki Berenyi’s winking face, is draped across
the top of NU-Wave/Indie F-K.
While its owner slides a shiny 12-inch
from a paper sleeve. Tilting the surface
of Side ‘A’ towards the light, to check
for scratches. There is no waft of stale
cigarettes and patchouli drifting
from a stubbled boho near the counter.
Instead, we see a track list, like a spreadsheet,
filled with titles, bearing a resemblance
to songs you may have heard already.
They trail out beneath a symbol,
meaning Play. Stuck there on a screen,
besides the graphic outline of a vacant heart.