The child fell in love with No Children by The Mountain Goats so that is what we are listening to every morning before facing our day.
She gets up first.
She pushes the wet cat food from the tiny bag into the
cat bowls and puts the oatmeal into the microwave while Philly D. is still summarizing
yesterday's news, and then she sits to eat and lets Darnielle tell us again
(but usually at least three more times) this story of hope and despair and
fatality and loss and alcohol and love and the moment trapped in the amber of
poetry.
Having it before breakfast makes me a little bit sick,
but,
later on I go to work, I live life and on the brink of returning from work to life I sit in
a car full of girls I'm driving home, across the street from Velesajam, while
the wind is howling and the Park is waving to me with its lovely long fingers of
branches full of fresh leaves
and in my head I hear John listing stuff
and the words shared with us by Andrija Škare about that
song during the first Slušaj me.
Behind the eyes, in the dark space, the thoughts are
billowing
and the arrhythmic ticker softly progresses through its numbers.
Life
is beautiful. Pain is a trove. Be happy for this moment for this moment is your
life.
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