the snow is sticking! a two days after
christmas miracle and the black tops are wet while
the grass is white fractal geometry.
I bleed and swell with the troubles of being home.
I haven't written a word in this city, but
our pipe dreams laced with coffee glow in our
mouths: pittsburg and a comic worthy of something
like Cavalier and Clay.
I get free drinks and internet here, a girl
with short black hair and a tattoo on her
upper left shoulder comes in from the cold,
and this place is as comfortable as my living room.
With a new year approaching there are definately resolutions,
or just those things you always knew you should do,
but need a time to make it real. Life hardly ever feels real anymore,
why does it take a door slamming or an ugly tone on the phone? Why
can we almost drift into a dream on the road, why does it take a
spilt second swerve into a ditch to shake your heart awake?
I hardly ever remember how I get from place to place.
I haven't made my list yet, i still struggle with that.
I think a ball dropping on Lexington should set the tone
I need.
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