“I’m in a parking lot
by myself. It’s a quarter to nine and
I’ve been here since five-forty-fi-y-ive!”
“Third Engine” and the unbridled freedom of catapulting oneself, launching, hurdling down some train track or highway. “The Last Lie I Told” and the uncaptured loneliness of being alone, just letting it out unto the ether. Cold pavement and the recollection of how that felt once. Uncomfortable blacktop as a mainstay of my youth, whether on the playground or in some field. Getting scraped or playing foursquare. Playing tag and the tree is home base. There is something very much about those formative years focused on getting your bones, and forming your sea legs. Socially awkward hesitance blocking the energy from flowing through. Our adult life we grow into, tell ourselves we are not good enough. Rocket pad countdown. Space X flight. Valentine Easter Egg Hunt. I miss the feel of my 2000 Toyota Camry and the verve the gas pedal would give me when riding up Route 17. I –
