"the boatman, he is gone, the loons have flown for cover.."
..he always brings me into myself. Perhaps I relate too much. I am found at this moment listening to the single girl
in the apartment
upstairs suffering from insomnia as I am. Or maybe she's just a nightowl
. That's the thing about living in New York
..you're so close to your neighbors
, you know their routines; their random bumpings in the middle
of the night
that just reek of fellow eccentricity. I wonder what she's doing right now.
"What's he building in there?" Tom Waits
I hear the mumurings of her tv
..is it that loud to drown out her thoughts of loneliness? A companion
? A lover
of gamma rays
beaming into her glazed eyes
and the peaks
of sine waves
caressing her sun shy skin
Another day on the island of Long finds me one month exactly since my birthday
, June 26th
. I was supposed to be in Baltimore
with some now very quiet members of E2
, celebrating the day we were all unleashed on this unsuspecting planet..but I was not summoned
. I believed
given, believed the utterances from lips
, and abused
. I never made any promises
, because I didn't want to let you down baby
. You never saw that.
One month. One months time to spend by myself in a land of strangers. One month to assimilate 2 years of burning
like a dark star falling into itself.
I have found my answers
where I forgot