As the world kept him thinking in turns so would the blank, empty, undiluted space in the upper right corner of his unimaginative American blog. It left itself for last - as if it knew it was much too smart for him - as if the search bar that had once been there was an overture to another space in time - as if that corner meant more than it really did.
This band makes me want to write poetry again
I used to write poetry. I saw the world in metaphor. I spent late nights into early mornings pushing a pen fitfully along ruled lines. I filled corners of open time with random phrases. I turned smiles into ink.
Somewhere along the way I lost that. Somewhere along the way life became economic. Somewhere along the way the mundane and profitable insinuated itself into my everyday experience. Somewhere along the way pragmatic sense became the currency of my thought.
It must have been natural, organic, painless. I didn’t feel it. I didn’t notice any shift, any change. There is no regret, no lament, no emptiness. There is only a continuing curiosity. An approach. A way of seeing.
It comes, when it comes at all, in waves. An occasional need to be cryptic. A fleeting objective correlation. A sense of something outside everyday speech. It comes, always, as a riff.
It comes most often as music, in music.
It comes as a simple thought:
Listening To
- Pink Floyd – Outside the Wall
- Blakroc – Dollaz & Sense Feat. Pharoahe Monch, RZA
- Pearl Jam – Pry, To
- The National – Daughters of the Soho Riots
- Cold War Kids – We Used to Vacation
- The String Cheese Incident – Hold Whatcha Got
- Medeski, Martin and Wood – Lifeblood
- Norah Jones – In The Morning
- The Hold Steady – Hornets! Hornets!
- Wilco – I Am Trying to Break Your Heart
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