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Entry date: 12-26-2022 - A Day After Poem - Letters to My Friends

Dear Friends,

Hopefully your holidays were nice, or at very least, you all had a nice weekend. At the point of this writing, I’ve had a wonderful time. Family is everything. I am glad that I got to the point in my life where I could see past the self and realize what is truly important.


Colin reached a point

In his life where the last thing

And the first thing

Were finally one.

He looked at the window.

Carefully, he stared. Measuring something

In the distance

And listening to see if it was making a sound.

It wasn’t, he thought, but maybe

If the streets would just quiet themselves

And listen with him.

Maybe then.

He considered leaving the house

And walking down the streets.

They weren’t too dirty today

And he could get a closer look.


A closer look would do the trick.

Odd turn of phrase,

Do the trick.

Do the trick.

Was it a trick? Was it trick?

The loops were starting again.

Those tricky loops.

Those tricky, icky loops inside Colin’s brain.

Trick, tick, sick…

He thought of Nick

And his “home of the brave” stance lately.

What a prick, Nick, thought Colin.

There, he was out.


The door closed

To the loops and if

He could just push through the one in front of him

He would be out

in the world getting a closer look.

Colin turned around and walked back to the window

To make sure he could still see it.

He could.

He would.

Now or never.

Clever, he thought, and it was starting again.

As if a lever had been levied

And that did it.

Levied was a safe word.

The door would open. It could.

He just needed to do the math a few more times

And that was what needed.

Colin had told her that it was over.

He remembered this much.

She always said he would

Be the one to end it

And he was.

The problem was the words.

They changed all the time

Like he changed his mind.

That’s what she always said

Though and when she said it

She always had a little smile

In the corner of her mouth

Like she didn’t really want

To believe she was saying

“I told you so” again

To him.

But she was

And she did. Like that Husker Du song

It made no sense at all

To walk around with your head in Colin’s cloud.

Colin smiled

And thought she was right.

It was bad enough he was

The one making the clouds.

He turned to look out the window again.

He needed to see it one more time from afar.

The evidence. He needed it one more time.

He wanted to yell it at the top of his lungs.

The sudden urge to scream

Shocked him awake. It was only

For a second but he was lucid

And calm and, momentarily, fragile.

It was fleeting.

He was caught between his thoughts.

He was from the time between eyes and stars

And when they recognized the other

It was always as old friends.

Or like a rented car

Waiting for a new master.

Would it end?

He could pretend.

Colin pretended well

And intended well

And condescended well.

“Dear Colin,” she said

One day exasperated

At his current display.

“The sun doesn’t revolve because of you

Or in spite of you, she said.

Why don’t you let Colin come out to play?

The birds will probably sing

If you just listen

To anything that comes from outside your head.”

She would often ask

To see him smile just one real smile.

He thought about accommodating her

Just once but thought against it.

He didn’t remember what his real smile was like.

But today was a new day

And soon he wouldn’t be far

From knowing what there was to know.

Just push through the door

If only it opened out into the hall

But he would have to pull

And that was always the hardest

Part of it all.

First and last and everything

In between to consider first.

The loops.

Stoops? Hoops? Poops?

Colin took a step.

And then another.



It felt good, he thought.

And then he felt selfish.

He told her

He felt like the words

“Selfish” and “Self-righteous”

Must take the same

Amount of energy to say

If you were being honest.

She didn’t know what he really meant

But then again, she never did.

“Always hurt the one you love”

Sang John Lydon in “Low Life.”

He liked that song a lot

And played it when he felt happy.

Or sad or indifferent or just …

He couldn’t’ always put his finger

On his feelings.

This, this was one of his problems.

“It’s just a matter of time,” she said

And she even pointed at her wrist when she said it.

He was supposed to feel rushed,

But he thought better of it.

“There is no “eye” in being rushed,” he said

Snickering to himself.

She didn’t know he was talking

About the other “eye” and not “I.”

I, not eye. Bye, not bi. There is no try, only do.

Screw you. Shrew.

Fuckin’ loops.


Colin thought the end would justify the beginning.

But he wasn’t listening.


I wrote that as I listened to a bunch of songs the computer picked for me. I call it the computer but who knows what it really is? Maybe it was Colin? Maybe Colin controls everything. The first song in the AI generated playlist was by Wire, so that’s why I called the fella in the poem “Colin.”

I think in 2023 there will be more of this style of writing and a lot more music inspired writing. It feels right to focus on writing about music, as well as finishing the stories I want to tell, too. I am not sure I can keep up the pace of writing 1000 words a day about myself and my life. It’s exhausting, but in a good way.

See you tomorrow.

He made me pull over so I wouldn't wreck the car during our interview a few years ago and then came out and sat with Michael, Bobby, and I before their show at the Crescent. Great dude and nothing like the guy in the poem.

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