16 jul 2005
what passes for weird in these circles
A phone call or two from home, you wouldn't believe the news (but it's not myne to report).
The sky seems to have forgotten it is summer: this does not bode well for our day on the shore tomorroww.
but what i wouldn't give for some good old-fashioned banter
from those boys who surprise me (ya'll know who you are)
stories that never end; just get interrupted
and after years together i can say: i don't know any facts
here i walk to my ghetto gas-station and buy some milk and a toothbrush
somehow in the NJ-Massachusetts-NJ odyssey i lost my Chinese toothpaste
turnpike roars a block away--much less hellish than construction
which is the best thing about Saturdays
"if there's anything i've learned
in all these years on my own
it's how to find my own way there
and my own way back home" --Ani--
solitude creating greed
if only i was less psychic
if only the world was less predictable
if only i were wrong more often.
and then another thing: upsetting. [but in the end, not my business.] Unfair questions, i forgot; won't repeat (i just want to be done).
Let us always be at Heckel's when it's three a.m.
or getting kicked out of graveyards hours from an airport drop-off
Let me drop something i can't replace through the cracks of your porch
and let the mud-covered cars park us in so we can't go home
Let the roar that i hear be the Ocean of Doom from your backyard
while we manually copy/paste colours on a jar or spiral notebook
"How dare you have an identity crisis while i'm making your lunch!"
"Those who see any difference between soul and body have neither." --Oscar Wilde--
Maybe it was a weird thing to do.
give me more coffee
and tell me another story ¶ 12:35
A phone call or two from home, you wouldn't believe the news (but it's not myne to report).
The sky seems to have forgotten it is summer: this does not bode well for our day on the shore tomorroww.
but what i wouldn't give for some good old-fashioned banter
from those boys who surprise me (ya'll know who you are)
stories that never end; just get interrupted
and after years together i can say: i don't know any facts
here i walk to my ghetto gas-station and buy some milk and a toothbrush
somehow in the NJ-Massachusetts-NJ odyssey i lost my Chinese toothpaste
turnpike roars a block away--much less hellish than construction
which is the best thing about Saturdays
"if there's anything i've learned
in all these years on my own
it's how to find my own way there
and my own way back home" --Ani--
solitude creating greed
if only i was less psychic
if only the world was less predictable
if only i were wrong more often.
and then another thing: upsetting. [but in the end, not my business.] Unfair questions, i forgot; won't repeat (i just want to be done).
Let us always be at Heckel's when it's three a.m.
or getting kicked out of graveyards hours from an airport drop-off
Let me drop something i can't replace through the cracks of your porch
and let the mud-covered cars park us in so we can't go home
Let the roar that i hear be the Ocean of Doom from your backyard
while we manually copy/paste colours on a jar or spiral notebook
"How dare you have an identity crisis while i'm making your lunch!"
"Those who see any difference between soul and body have neither." --Oscar Wilde--
Maybe it was a weird thing to do.
give me more coffee
and tell me another story ¶ 12:35
Comments:
Publicar un comentario
<< Home
<< Home
