wash your hair

March 16, 2004

hear it in the stairwell: John Mayer

Make myself write something noting nothing has been said at all. It all floats through my mind and mixes in with to-do lists, errands, conversations to be had, people to be called. It mixes in and its importance fades fast to nothing.

I had it, I had it, I really think that this time, I had it. It was there, it was good, it was better than good, it was great. It would have been smart/surprising/funny/compelling/inspiring. It would have been the best thing ever but I lost it thinking about lightbulbs and voicemails. Wish that I could divide myself in two, two parts to make a whole when I wanted to be whole. One half to worry about paying the rent, getting new dog food, getting an oil change, to manage life and its un-tidy scraps. One half to write, to let the ideas flow in and be caputured and wrestled into some coherency. Today and other days, I’m the whole confused person walking down the street inspired and distracted by life.

Jesus on the Radio-Guster

5 a.m., March 16

Jesus on the radio

You took a photograph of me

on your yellow bucket seat

Its too high, its too wide

You’re so low you don’t know

To get through, to go around

So don’t look back

There ain’t nothing there to see

Was once like you

Can’t say I recognize that face

in that picture that you keep

Its too high, its too wide

You’re so low you don’t know

To get through, to go around

To get through, to go around

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