February 25, 2012

Blue and White and Black All Over

Is this how it happens now?

All over
All over

I'm gonna put on jeans tomorrow and a sweater

All over
All over

Two days is just not enough of a weekend

Things seep out of your skin slowly, in strange towns, we smell them

The Potomac is a river

The Chesapeake is a bay

And it was massacred on a sign earlier today

And it was mistreated more seriously

And the oyster disappeared and everything went to hell all over

Some people make a tunnel and fill in a swamp

Those are not our people

Some people take an honest job or work an honest day

Some people sell things bought and sold and don't even know what a boombox is

You're going to tell me about cosmonauts? For serious?

This is the nation's capital.

This is late at night.

This is she was smart and on top of things and a snappy dresser to boot, with a little tutelage.

Steerage, steering column, spinal fluid, the south of France, hexagonally yours forever and ever, all over, all over

There are more than 6 billion hearts beating right now -- and that's just the human ones. How many are beating as one? How many are all over? How many stopped beating while I wrote this? How many started?

Will tomorrow's breakfast sit well?

Will certain things always taste better in a restaurant?

Which things? Give me something.

Take. Want. Steal. Misappropriate. Remember. Remember. Remember. Forget.

Remember. Remember. Remember. Forget.

Fillllllllllter. Swish.

All over.
All over.

Filthy. Good for something. Carbon and carbon-dating and darkness falls. Curtains open just a bit on the world.

The whole world. Here.