I woke up
Trying to write again
The streets are silent
The talk is on the inside
It’s all the same lines
And
everyone smiles at the table
Drink in their hand
We’re all real good liars
Does the future look good?
And we saw the signs on the interstate
We saw the signs but we didn’t mark the time
We keep waiting for music to save itself
But we’d have to touch something that makes emotion
And we’re still numb from the great promotion
Someone said
It would take a sound
only your gut could understand
What happened to soul ?
I took a walk
My shoes wear down from the unpaved road,
The humidity is so thick, sometimes I feel like I could cut it with a butter knife
I try to write,
But my word document keeps freezing,
So I break out a note pad, you know the ones, paper, pens,
I transfer it to a typewriter
Now I can mail it to the Paris Review
Turn on the radio –
I don’t recognize anything I hear
I don’t relate
What happened to soul?
They say Blues won’t pay your bills
But Blues is the only thing that knows the way I feel
This is a mill town
But the mills are all gone
Does that make this a ghost town?
I like old things
I don’t know how to change
When was the last time you heard a sound
That took you by surprise ?
When was the last time you read something that opened your eyes?
I dress everyday
I Pour wine and coffee
When I write
I have to take myself seriously
get up
Get up off the floor
No one else is going to make you-
Sometimes it takes the change
But one of these days
You’re going to have to start again
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She tilts her head back