Red-Headed

The acid guitar
sounds of an ancient vinyl
long playing record

irradiate through
the information super-
highway wi-fi hub

and reproduce on
the tiny speakers of my
laptop computer.

And I ponder on
times when I seemed more happy
with some relative

positivity
and glass half-full bloke kind of
optimistic moods.

But it isn't true
because I was negative
in those days as well.

For some strange reason
I keep thinking of chocolate
and pints of bitter.