2001-11-26 - 12:23 a.m.

an incomplete dismemberment plan narrative that sounds much nicer behind guitars and that sweetfaced man's voice:

And I used to be kind of weird about this,
a fear of dependence on a guilty gilt-edged
hedged transcendence that makes us lairs
and tense when we look down and realize
that nothing really suspends us ---

So in the end, whatever, we die, we
dissolve, equations unbalanced, riddles
unsolved, and we were never connected
or involved except for the intersections
and crazy mathematics with no time
and no space and no schedule and no
place --- and we pass right through it
without a trace

And sometimes that music drifts
through my car on a spring night when
anything is possible and I close my eyes
and I nod my head and I wonder how
you been and I count to a hundred and
ten because you’ll always be my hero,
even if I never see you again.

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