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By chris Date: 2004 Nov 23 Comment on this Work [[2004.11.23.13.29.14924]] |
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it's midnight and your voice on the phone isn't the same as next to me in bed or at the atomic cantina with a rum and coke and sublime punk angst blaring in the next room and the rain outside won't even turn to snow all the same i take consolation in you we should have met twenty years ago or when i was gritting my teeth shelving books some morning in austin wondering how i ended up there and how in the hell i could get out now (no second chances allowed you see) (in texas not a damn thing changes but the scenery) which is probably why i'd drive insane distances on my days off always alone no one to save me no andy warhol with god holding on the phone half-wishing i could keep going but knowing i'd end up trying again and again to make the same square peg fit into the same round hole (the laws of geometry can't be bent) but you spent sixteen years at that i only wasted just three and a half i have to laugh at the blind chance of it all because we could have easily never met and that's why my thank-you to her is real and not smug or superior we're better than no one simply lucky to have jumped or been pushed over the railing of the sinking ship and managed to swim just far enough away to avoid getting pulled under beneath beautiful but useless stars that would only have watched as it all went down |