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Sep. 19th, 2012
Step back if it takes you forward
Sep. 19th, 2012 02:15 amMy city loves me. She reminds me just how much, when like Patsy Cline I go walkin' after midnight. Lonesome as a cowboy's shadow perched distant on the edge of some technicolor dusk, I make my way back from bidding farewell to the Magpie before he flies out back west. Ended up having me a few house reds at the Black Metal Cafe, where Transylvanian shop talk abounded and oaths of grander days to come were sworn earnestly under the drunken night. With little to say and much to do, I congratulated my mate wholeheartedly on his endeavors success before making my goodbyes as quick as a band-aid torn off a fresh scar.
Along the darkened Victorian homes, autumn will-o'-the-wisps crisply through the wrap around porches and delivers the first faint whiffs of a lit chimney. Endless lonely childhood twilights crackled across the memory before I doused them with an old man's laugh. On the corner of Highland and Elizabeth, along the recently closed cafes, I caught a kitchen crew smoking a joint out behind a dumpster. Across the street a young lady click-clacking in knee high boots shouts - "But I love you!" - into her cell phone before throwing it across the parking lot. A car slows down besides her. A door opens. She pauses. Looks up at me and looks confused before stepping without word into the vehicle before it takes off. A door opens ahead, a young man in an apron props it open and lights a cigarette. Out of the door Bonobo's 'Night Life' comes thumping out in a driving bass. A song only someone who loved me would know I love so much. I stop in my tracks, ostensibly to light a smoke but really to savor this much needed song humming along the now otherwise empty road.
And across the street, somewhere in the parking lot, the cell phone is ringing...
Along the darkened Victorian homes, autumn will-o'-the-wisps crisply through the wrap around porches and delivers the first faint whiffs of a lit chimney. Endless lonely childhood twilights crackled across the memory before I doused them with an old man's laugh. On the corner of Highland and Elizabeth, along the recently closed cafes, I caught a kitchen crew smoking a joint out behind a dumpster. Across the street a young lady click-clacking in knee high boots shouts - "But I love you!" - into her cell phone before throwing it across the parking lot. A car slows down besides her. A door opens. She pauses. Looks up at me and looks confused before stepping without word into the vehicle before it takes off. A door opens ahead, a young man in an apron props it open and lights a cigarette. Out of the door Bonobo's 'Night Life' comes thumping out in a driving bass. A song only someone who loved me would know I love so much. I stop in my tracks, ostensibly to light a smoke but really to savor this much needed song humming along the now otherwise empty road.
And across the street, somewhere in the parking lot, the cell phone is ringing...
