At a trash ‘n’ treasure market,
in an average town,
an old radio
encased in bakelite.
Plugged in &
waiting for the valves to warm
I took to the dial with a frothing sense of urgency,
twisting past horse races & rock & roll,
past right wing commentary,
. searching for the frequency of God,
long lost in digital audio,
. sure to be found
in the silver soldered
magic of a romanticised time.
. & there
at the end
of the amplitude modulated band,
. megahertz away from any generic noise,
. a perfect silence.
Published in Windmills, Fifth Edition, November 2010
Published in Best Australian Poems 2011
Published in Notes for Translators 2012, December 2012
Published on robbiecoburn.com