It's Friday. I'm in love.

I was driving yesterday-- not for long, inasmuch as Blue passed out and had to be driven to the doctor-- and something occured to me. I don't remember what that something was, but it led to such a tremendous swell of affection that I had to turn off my radio.

I worry about being cold. Or, well-- worry isn't the right word. But I sit and think about the fact that I am cold, in many ways. There are alot of things I should care about, and don't. There are alot of people I should feel something for, and do not. And this thinking leads to questions which I *do* worry about, so.

Regardless-- I turned my radio off yesterday, thinking about my people. My friends, whose names I could prattle off, but won't. How they're just such-- huge people. Incredible, beautiful, mythos people. They--

. . I can't make this sound right.

I wish I had Devon's knack for grand-scale poetics. But I don't. My laureate is the minute.

*shakes head*

It doesn't matter. This isn't an announcement, because it should've already been perfectly clear-- and it's not an epiphany. I was just thinkin' about it. Wanted you to know I was thinking about it.

-- I wanted to say to you,
that I feel skinny, in my life
now, in the autumn, or in the
twenty-first century, or
in my twenties. Or waiting
for one catastrophe or inspiration
or another, or for you to love me
or leave, suddenly.

I know
I am disbanded, I know I've fallen
out, away, each member of my band
hardened. they're writing books
about the way things used to be.
the leaves fall, in this season,
or in my twenties, I guess,
and I notice when I'm driving

we made a snowman, together,
last winter, and this one.
and they were different
because everything's different
always, and you asked me
what I wanted to name it.

and I think I know
what you expected me to say--
but I only shrugged,
and we left it that way.

-- I can't imagine how the snow will lay

this year. differently, I'm sure,
or not at all. loudly, at christmas,
on beaches, or quietly, below
the thrum of the radio. so
that I have to turn the nob

to say something
about it.