Thursday, July 16, 2009
We made our way to a shabby, aged trailer
Deep in the wildernesses of Nowhere, Virginia
Speed limit 10 in Glens
20 on Main Roads
The waters were docile and the green from the trees above
Looked like algae on the water's surface
I couldn't seem to focus on anything but the gravel in my canvas shoes
And she told me there was no time like the present
Well how shall I know she's present?
And we made love so that everyone could see
I realize, now, that we were everyone
We were fighting for our lives because who knows how long we'll feel this young, right?
She scribbled something sloppily in Spanish she probably thought I'd neither see nor comprehend
I told her about my infatuation with this American wilderness
But she didn't believe me
And I sang her that Outfield cover
And she didn't believe that either
I can recall my voice
While checking the time like late December in Manhattan
What happens now?
What does that mean?
I think it means, er...
Is this en route to inevitable destruction?
God, you worry so much
We can always continue from this ellipsis
It has always been a habit of mine
To acknowledge every cloudings potential to metamorphose into a downpour
And I arose to a desolate space
Devoid of all affection
And I realized the seeds I had planted had taken root
Fair to say, packing my umbrella was a worthwhile decision