call call call
06.07.03back&
forth
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i know it's strange. i know i'm sitting right here at my old computer listening to the music that used to string me along. ani difranco - shy. the songs i used to shout to the early morning wind, to the sky black like late night ink when weariness took over and all that could be done was dance around and make it dissappear. and i know i've got lots of new things in my life, lots of open space and new faces and adventure stories. lots of books of poetry open all over the house, so when i wake up at two in the afternoon i can sit on the bar stools and pour over margaret atwood while i eat strawberries, carefully. and my stomach hurts when i laugh these days, cause i've been running through coconut grove down to the docks down past the parks and crazy verdant spring life and little set up shops that line my life. it gets that way these days. and i'm telling you all this, trying to see what comes out from these fingertips and these eyes just watching the words form. and shaking my head at it all, singing along like old time. so many photographs. so many words here that slice me up, cut me back raw and make me feel again. cause i've got the frame outside the words, outside the one inch frame of 'this is beautiful' and 'this is what gets me up in the morning' [which has been voices lately and certain ringing tones]. and really. i miss this. mostly i miss the years i've been here. but the most;. if this is even possible. i miss myself.
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