Filed under: yes&no
A cup of tea and crossed legs under the table, you had a long black and I liked that // the sun was setting sooner than usual so we walked across the road to the park to catch the last minutes of light/warmth, the grass itched my thighs through my stockings, running my hands up and down them now and then // you want too, I should just let you but all the same things stop me, always feeling underwhelmed, always the same // no sun now, there is a dog swimming in the pond and we stare until our gaze is broken by nothing in particular // we talk about wednesday, the next time we see each other I won’t be so erratic but green blue red shadows all over you, tell me I will be // and you will be
When i first found out about this invention, i too had mixed feelings but those feelings have all turned into feelings of curiosity and hunger. I also think i would implode after one bite.
An unusually warm night, an unusual night.
The last night sleeping in my room, in my house, on my street.
The 303 storms down Crown Street like a junkie that’s run out of cigarettes.
Sunday night traffic, every now and then.
Sitting in the doorway to my house the view is underwhelming.
The lane opposite, where the sun sets in between two terraces with corresponding chimneys.
Goodbye view.
No more Lily Moon,
no more Mangiare,
no more avoiding Coffee Tea or Me.
Whenever I’ve moved house, I’ve always been concerned that after a boozy night out my feet would walk me back to my old house out of habit. That would be a gas.
And to think, the whole year and a half I lived on Crown St, I never got to eat at Fuel. Well I’d say that was my last chance to purchase a $60,000 Volvo with a roquet and goats cheese salad on the side.
In one month this house will not be the home I remember. It will inhabit different people with different smells, different furniture, different drug, eating, sleeping habits.
But the view of the lane across the road won’t change. At least not in the next month anyway.
