I have nothing to say.
How many times have I said that to him
While I sit in a chair facing his?
The only difference here is that I'm talking to you
Whoever you may be
In Schaumburg
In Flushing
In Berkeley
In Elm Creek
In Raleigh
In Reston
In Raritan
What do you say when you get disappointed
Again?
How do you tell yourself
Over and over
That it won’t always be like this
When it will?
In the news today
A Father of a baby who made headlines in Toronto this winter
For being born on the Wellesley Subway platform
Died of cancer
Times that by millions
And you have Darfur
And so if it will always be this mother fucking disappointing
Than what, may I ask, is the point?
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
3 comments:
pull your head out of the headlines! the rarefied air in there will poison you. sit down, close your eyes and listen to flamenco sketches. you won't care what the point is.
when you figure out the point, will you email it to me, please?
just a quick fyi: Chap's selection is by one Miles Davis--some sort of famous jazz trumpeter, they tell me.
Oh yeah? I think I hearda that guy. I'll let you know if I figure it out.
Post a Comment