The rains have come. I will have four days of. . . whatever.
"Morphine. . . Morphine. . . What makes you so mean? You never used to treat me like you do. Where's that sweet gal I knew?"
I once had a strange wreck while listening to this song. I was driving in a rainstorm after a long drought, and of a sudden, an invisible hand took control of my car. It just bean spinning slowly. . . in time with the song that was playing ever so loudly. No matter how I moved the steering wheel, the car continued its slow, lazy spin. I was on a road with three lanes heading in each direction. It widened at the intersection to four lanes in four directions--sixteen lanes. And I twirled across eight of them. . . so silly slow. And when I hit a curb, it threw the car into the air toward a silver electrical power box. Fortunately for me, the turf was soggy and the car sunk in to the axels as soon as it hit. It fucked up the tie rods, but otherwise, it and I were fine. When I got home, though, my neighborhood was in shambles and a tree branch had crashed through the roof of my apartment. Weird, bad day.
It must have been around this time of year. Funny that. The song came up on my on the computer as I was writing
Once again. . . strange interlude.
But everything can turn in a moment, can't it? We can make our plans, but a couple quirky turns and we're asking for Miltown again. Or Morphine.
It rains. The cat cries plaintively. I am irritated by each rather than moved. I am empty but for rain and cat's meows. There is that, nothing more.
Hell Among the Yearlings is one of my favorite CD's--very dark!
ReplyDeleteToday the weather is beautiful but last night the rain brought lightning so close that I got up and unplugged my computer. In between flashes I heard prolonged rumbling and wondered if this was the tornado sound they warn about. (We had one in the vicinity a few years ago. It missed my neighborhood but cut a giant path through the pine woods in neighboring towns.) I thought about what would happen if one of the big pines came down on my roof as I drifted off...
nothing more..I keep thinking of Poe...oh that was never more wasn't it? Either way it has an empty ring...
ReplyDeleteA, They always take you to Oz. Always.
ReplyDeleteI used to fall asleep to that album every night for a long, long time.
R, If we are readers and then write, the echoes of the great stuff is always there, isn't it. Sometimes it is conscious copying, and sometimes it just erupts unnoticed. That's why it is important to tell kids to read the good stuff. The source of language for most people is television. And that, I'm afraid, is worse than being mute.