(no subject)
The other dayit felt good to be in my bones
I was looking out of my windshield
over hands gripping the top of the steering wheel
(my hands, slightly calloused from steel strings
and frisbees and shovels and summer-length belt sanding)
and I thought
It feels good to be in my bones
to be myself in this particular moment in time
car speakers loudly shuffling Third Eye Blind
and singing along
my voice competing with the stereo and the
hurried wind-rushing of windows-down-driving
on a tree-lined North Carolina road
with sunset-clouds way up and to the left
a blazing painted sky-furnace
Thy Kingdom Come, indeed
rory
I was looking out of my windshield
over hands gripping the top of the steering wheel
(my hands, slightly calloused from steel strings
and frisbees and shovels and summer-length belt sanding)
and I thought
It feels good to be in my bones
to be myself in this particular moment in time
car speakers loudly shuffling Third Eye Blind
and singing along
my voice competing with the stereo and the
hurried wind-rushing of windows-down-driving
on a tree-lined North Carolina road
with sunset-clouds way up and to the left
a blazing painted sky-furnace
Thy Kingdom Come, indeed
rory