and we’re out there standing on the beach and my toes know sand is fairy dust, and I trust my heart to this evening breeze and she’s teasing me with this closed paren -thesis of gold and so i’ve gone and told the earth i love her once again.
but see, she’s a tricky one (this earth, this moon). just when i think her murmur’d shine enough, she disappears too soon.
I’ve just come from a couple nights in Lake Tahoe with my Love. This is prompted by Poetic Asides.
We stop against our better judgement, even though we’ve barely got a dime between us and we shoulda used it for laundry because your last t-shirt is starting to smell like that rest stop two towns back.
The black black pavement just keeps on moving and that dot-to-dot line is a golden ellipses to the next thing but we don’t know what that is and so maybe we should just keep cranking up the Stones and keep on rolling.
But we’re on E, see? And it doesn’t stand for everything or anything, really, except that everything’s a mess and even with a full tank I’d be empty of common sense and still endlessly edging myself into eventual eclipse.
And maybe here’s where I get out. Get off this crazy ride and hide and find myself again right here in the middle of… Kansas? Nebraska? Where are we? So maybe not. Not quite yet. But it’s fuel for thought.