Anything that you want, anything that you need
I’ll send it along with love from me to you.
The Beatles

We needed a lot, my big brother and I:
a mother who wasn’t depressed,
a father who wasn’t dying.

My brother craved the Fab Four
who flew over the Atlantic
and sang into an ocean

of screamers. Shaggy boys,
big-heeled shoes,
no collars on their coats.

My brother wanted it all.
Was fervor enough
to make up for money?

How did he get those Beatle boots
that made him stumble forward,
while the other kids snickered?

He wore a hole in the vinyl
of those voices, rotating promises
on the black disc of our wanting.