the big event?

afterwards,
nothing.
oddly unmemorable.
i've come to prefer
   the quiet
   the slow
   the calm.
i believe in the movement,
most days.
the wonderful let down
reminds me
of my place.
rinse,
and repeat.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

a recent road trip

my wife and i just moved from waco, texas to richmond, virginia. we drove- two vehicles, she in her car, and i in the rental moving truck. currently an excessive selection of memoirs and such from road trips offer fantastic reflections of what it's like to hit the open road in some capacity.  further, much of the music that i consider great, was likely written and refined on the road.  personally, i often find myself thinking about the interconnectedness of roads, highways, interstates, driveways and even sidewalks- not in a religious tone, but in a structural sense.  that's a huge construction.  its hard for me to imagine a larger, more expansive project... instead of a poem from the trek, id like to make a confession.  "i could be a trucker." the thickness of my beard, lacking;  my rough-neck attitude, sub-par;  my bladder, shallow.  many of my long-haul trucker archetypes do not align with the profession.  but there is something sexy about the tv show ice r
Read more

for sergeant

financial reports indicate the comanche, texas newspaper is projecting bankruptcy next year after the loss of their one and only customer.  i suspect a drop in ear plug sales across the metroplex. i am also told that parked cars, street signs, and garage doors everywhere sighed with relief when "granny" died.  i will forever wish that i had a picture of the rear end of her car that "she never hit anyone with." "when you  remember  me,  it  means  that  you  have  carried  something  of  who  i  am  with  you,  that  i  have  left  some  mark  of  who  i  am  on  who  you  are.  it  means  that  you  can  summon  me  back  to  your  mind  even  though  countless  years  and  miles  may  stand  between  us.  it  means  that  if  we  meet  again,  you  will  know  me.  it  means  that  even  after  i  die,  you  can  still  see  my  face  and  hear  my  voice  and  speak  to  me  in  your  heart.  for  as  long  as  you  remember  me,  i  am  never  en
Read more

two death

i've only grieved second hand. i've held the hand of an unknown spouse as her beloved was unplugged. i've told the boy that dad was dead, and he could see him soon. i've called the friend of a friend, for a friend, when she didn't know.  i remember watching my brother, mother, father and friend. this week i put on my suit twice, but the tears were not my own. they are my only gift to you. i am so sorry. i can't imagine.  i hope-
Read more