Wednesday, October 23, 21:24 CDT

Better Than Ezra have more decent songs than I remembered.

'course, I still mostly went to hear "Good". I have this memory, perfect in tone and shape if not detail, the kind of memory you suspect is more a composite than a snapshot of some specific event, of sitting in my cousin's beat brown pickup on some Fall Saturday, listening to a cassette single of that song over and over. There's the image of an empty room, wooden floor at the base of stairs and a half-open door, dust shining in the sunlight streaming through old windows... That part must come from the song, and none of it signifies much, but it won't leave my head.

Wednesday, October 23

colorado's unsurprisingly perfect weather
has given way to nebraska's sleet and wet snow
which is on the whole
way more conducive to a really good brooding depression
than sitting in warm sun on a rock
(a real rock, not some drill-scarred broken quarry-reject in a fountain)
watching what might be a chipmonk skitter past

but i'm tired of brooding depression
once you've decided not to kill yourself
you might as well get the fuck on with life

snow would also be
conducive to the kind of exultant joy
i usually find in the shifting of seasons
but i'm not quite up to that one either

maybe i'll settle on the closest thing i can get
to total personal transparency

not here and never was
for all the external world should be able to tell.

tags: topics/poem

p1k3 / 2002 / 10 / 23