I've undertaken one of the biggest projects of the season: cleaning my apartment. It's been going on for over a week now and finally the end is in sight. Meanwhile, I've been finding a lot of old quotes. I write down a lot of what people say around me and it is always pleasing to find these tid bits later. It is like an archeological dig into dusty, peeling conversations that laid the foundation for something greater: where we are today.
Today I found a poem I wrote, I'm not sure who it is about or when it is from, and it is not very good. I hold no illusions about it but, I share it here because I think the end captures a particular honesty that relates to the project at hand.
horns blowing
& guitars picking
& we are sailing around the room
on the wings of our bad dancing,
hard laughter
what i love the most
is getting so comfortable around someone
we can sing
dressed in excited
off pitch voices
to our favorite songs
& head bang to the beat
of tired pop
our stomachs make weird
space ship sounds w/o our control
& we are a little embarrassed
but we don't wish we were dead
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