..................
CATCHING
Henry James said, “Be one of those people upon whom nothing is lost.”
I’m having a second Miller Lite in a bottle. Condensation is running in tears down the sides, and collecting around the bottom. When I lift the bottle, the water forms an open mouth with absolutely nothing to say.
A black, faceless air filter is sitting on my bed, sighing endlessly. My homework is waiting for me. It always remembers me.
I can’t find Blankwave Arcade, the second Faint album, the crucial step between their early uninspired sound and their later pop orgasms. I’m missing that crucial step. I can’t move on until I find it.
Earlier, I was washing the bathroom sink, the water crashing against my hands like waves. The waves were carrying little flecks of my skin away. I sensed the erosion; not with my hands; with something deeper and quieter.
Henry James said, “Be one of those people upon whom nothing is lost.”
I’m having a second Miller Lite in a bottle. Condensation is running in tears down the sides, and collecting around the bottom. When I lift the bottle, the water forms an open mouth with absolutely nothing to say.
A black, faceless air filter is sitting on my bed, sighing endlessly. My homework is waiting for me. It always remembers me.
I can’t find Blankwave Arcade, the second Faint album, the crucial step between their early uninspired sound and their later pop orgasms. I’m missing that crucial step. I can’t move on until I find it.
Earlier, I was washing the bathroom sink, the water crashing against my hands like waves. The waves were carrying little flecks of my skin away. I sensed the erosion; not with my hands; with something deeper and quieter.