Monday, September 19, 2016

carry on






I know you think about it _ on Sunday evenings when all noise has settled down
or at night before the last light goes out, or when you ride from the bar under the orange lights, or when you come home from work and get cooking those funny dishes of yours with the kiełbasy_   sometimes it will pop up as you brush your teeth and then you'll spit it out and it gets washed down.

I know you said you would, but you haven't nipped it in the bud, have you? and time goes by and there's a new thing every day, and such many and wonderful opportunities, and time goes by and you say, hey maybe not yet, but one day soon it will get too old, and more time goes by and you're someone who loves new things so much, and someone who hates old things so bad, and simply wanted it to cease completely, but oddly enough it doesn't feel (or get) too old, does it? sometimes it feels as if it was yesterday, despite everything. 

How do I know ? 

We both know as I'm writing these lines 

They're not a means of stating I am still here, even if I do nothing or say nothing you will still feel it in your bones. 


Remember the fruit pic ? you might have wondered why there were so many photographs taken, so many words spoken, so much and so extensively given detail, and you may even wonder why I even kept the set of little blue thingies that you said would crash in your suitcase. It's just that some things need to be preserved as they are, at a certain unspoiled state, say like a jar of pickles when winter makes one's veggies unavailable. I would say "ask your dad" but I'm not sure he even noticed when your mother packed the tiny vital bits into small preservation units. And baby, you are a little bit like him. I knew that when I thanked the man. 



Coming home from work, A Day at The Races played in the car. Bass and drums to the max. For a moment it felt as if something  ...  I can't put my finger on it. 

For a little while, it felt as if everything was simple and amazing. I missed the fun of it _ as if I've ever seen you drumming your ass off on the stirring wheel, or as if we'd sketch Good old fashioned Lover Boy, and the Millionaire Waltz on the way, because they're like musicals. 

Yeah, you can say this sounds so typical of me... 

Or maybe ... maybe you just vibe me hard sometimes 






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