don't worry. i'm just getting back in the habit.
do the work
i have this job
the tank's always full
the calls from machines and polite Indians have stopped
i have this dog, she sits, she trots along behind me
i stood before 14,000 and sang
i was late for the show by decades
then i got down and ran my marathon
but this time no tears
like the night she said we needed to stop
earlier i pressed the keys,
black and white,
and nice noises came out
i play purple rain, just now
twenty years after i first loved it
the cat is curled up, he feels safe,
just a wary eye barely ajar to watch the dog
now snoring on my foot
tony banks pressed the keys in 1974,
the noises come out now,
remastered, mastered again,
filling 2009 living room with Rael's tale
in DTS surround sound
my friends are there, out there
all somewhere
not here not now
and i feel it all moving
fraying
the 40th year fritters away
each minute falling from my hands
carrying with it pieces of futures lost
completed tales of love
Polaroid memories dried,
safe to touch,
starting to turn yellow
there can be 40 more
or just tonight
and what would it be?
i'm thankful
happy for the dog
the cat
the leather couch cool against skin
peter gabriel's voice
that i could run in the morning
if i saw the point
bank accounts
and stomach
and time
not being empty
i am not ungrateful
i've learned to accept the past
it's being here now that's hard
can 40 ahead bring more peace than the 40 behind?
the water drips
the towel dries
the strawberries grow deeper red by the second
and i'm on my couch
and i just feel... tired.
