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.
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.
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
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.
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.
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.
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.