Cassette Kids

Was listening to Cat Stevens on my crappy stereo.
In the years between 1970 and ’72, my mother thought it well to buy each of us a cassette player/recorder. Over time & birthdays, we older three each got a panasonic portable (eventually our youngest brother got a thing that looked like a red plastic lunchbox).
Anyway, during our grade and middle school years - we were cassette kids. 


Cassette Kids

I don’t so much like their new ones,
  the ones after ’76, or ’82
But we played those albums,
  in the car on the way to Florida,
When Dad found the radio came in all fuzz,
  or Mom refused hear another Baptist revival,
You’d put an album on your cassette player,
  battery operated, on your lap,
Those songs, I remember!

Some were their big hits,
  as now we know,
Others were what’re called deep tracks,
  never heard on FM,
Loved them just as much,
  so what? Then who knew?

Did they give us great music?
  were they recorded electric folk?
We know we were the folk that they sang for,
  Moon-shadow, Moonshadow,

There is a peace where I think "Wow,"
  long long later from when then was now,
These old roots, let’s feed them once again,
  let’s pour Calliopes’ liquor on the Dahlia corms of our youth,
I bloom to the old tunes now,
  as once we flowered by the meadows near the highway
   to those cassette taped heart songs then