Saturday, June 02, 2007

Framed

This has
happened before.
I look around
a new room,
and see the same
photo.

Well not the same
exact photo,
but close.

Its framed,
its black and white.
and in it is you,
(and by you, i mean
the many you's or she,
or they, her's and the
occasional whats her face )

So like i was saying,
its always framed,
always black and white,
and in it is you
and this supposedly
amazing person
who's like your best
friend or the
coolest person in the world.

So cool to the point
i don't know cool,
or wouldn't know it
until i met this
person.


Its always the same
story too,
they are somewhere else.
sometimes far geographically,
sometimes emotionally,
but its always
the same, they say...

"You have to meet them"
You have to meet them...
You have to meet them...

fuck.
I never have.


nobody ever says...
you have to meet .."me"
and most the existing
photo's of me are in color,
unframed, and blurry....

I never meet the ones in black and white...They always exist frozen
in some perfect past.
As i walk around
a new room
i don't see you reaching for a camera...
and that was ok.


Its the same photo anyway...
always the same

always framed
always in black
and white,
and I have yet
to ever last
long enough
to ever meet
them.

either the perfect friend, or the perfect you in that photo.

Although I
usually
always meet the
annoying
loud
slutty relative
who drinks too much
in the cheap
Polaroid’s in color
stuck in on the mirror framed...



07'

Friday, June 01, 2007

Talking heads

I was almost late to work yesterday.
almost.
i was listening to the talking heads,
not the television commentators, the malpracticed spin doctors, the liars paid to beat truth up in a dark alley,
but the late 70's art rock funk punk pop art Talking heads.
i couldn't stop listening to the first album
i looked at the clock, and saw that if i didn't leave at a certain time
i would be late.
i would miss my bus.
maybe the bus would also be late, maybe it would early.
i didn't know.
i took the gamble because i couldn't stop listening...
i was almost late,
almost.
i would like to say sorry.
not for almost being late
but that if i hadn't met you i would never have borrowed your C.D, fell in love with you, lost you and forgot to return it, and listen obsessively to it to remind me of our first kiss while it played in the background, then none of this would have happened.
almost.

07'

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