Sitting at the kitchen table, kettle beginning to blow Same Bat Time, Same Bat Channel hearing a noise and looking off into the distance I'm back in the past for a brief time Our lives interwine The lights flash on a dance floor of chintz... And I'm back in Minnesota watching the boiling water yet seeing nothing at all of consequence The phone ringing upstairs tries to break my reverie names float back through my mind,hence How many of you did I know? Or did I really care about? Throwing darts at a wall of numbers trying to score left alone with my memories trying to scrounge up one more And then I'm back. Six years younger. A long face matched by a long frown I gaze into the night with a vague understanding that I was here before before anything else went down. Faces. Names. Numbers. Beepers. I call and no one answers A floor occupied by the lovers and their private dancers Home, Jeeves, I say laughingly to the bus driver 8 Halsted, with the sun heading up to the east Where others went home long ago to begin another day I didn't want to, not yet, at least Snap back and turn off the water. And finally I remember How it all came to a halt I was told to leave, departed, a chain of events began set in motion, and it was not my fault. I'm back over on Sheridan Road. I'm in an apartment I've never seen I've got a boy bent over in his bathroom, yet curiously, he's clean And that memory fades as another takes it's place I'm not talking as the movie kicks up and the credits roll That only I can see, against a backdrop blacker than coal Now I'm on Clark and Halsted, I'm thinking about M I'm staring longingly at the poles and seeing in my mind all the treasure this pirate should lovingly find But I'm out. A veil drops over the screen And now I don't know why I choose now to remember why my mind sees June while outside I see December I'm again in the north, gazing inwardly to see I teleport back down onto Halsted and Roscoe It's summertime again, yet I'm being laid low I have nobody then yet I seem happier...why's this? Dreams coming back online, why do I only remember sex? because it's fun for me? Because I can? I don't know, tell me? I clap my hands in an expression of unrestrained (for me) glee I could never understand what it was that drove the machine In retrospect I can, but then I thought too small If, in fact, I ever thought at all. Then the vague understanding clears up, and briefly it appears, shining like a light in a sky black as pitch I grasp to understand it fully but a sudden glitch pulls it just out of my reach What was it, I demand as I'm fully back in current time What did I see shining as clear as a bell? I really don't know, I can't tell. My memories may seem like it's all that I have And they may seem like they're all that I've got Even as I say it, I know it's not. I write about it, so it will never die I write it as best as I can remember it, I will not lie And the truth be told, I remember it all Every embarassing second exposed in my brain Vaguely I understand as outside, it starts to rain.
Reason for writing:
Going back to my days in Chicago for this one, my last two-or three years encapsulated.
Birth sign: Aries
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