Poem: Caught by Crimson

A poem about King Crimson. Mostly.

I bought In The Court of The Crimson King
when $1 records were a thing, and it felt
ceremonial to drink it all in. And we say

that album changed my life. And it sounds
silly and far too dramatic. But our lives
were so small back then (they still are now

but we have heightened our worth). We
are the $1 records ourselves. Cracked and
scratched — but shiny gems. A world of

possibility lying in the hum under the
needle. Cock your ear and take the time,
there’s magic there, it’s someone’s

absolute promise. Crimson King has a
metal edge and the frozen shriek of the
cover conveys the music. It was terrifying

to the point of excitement — and though
that first listen was always best, the drug
had been tasted.