love burns

you can blame the whores
or booze, or cold nights, or just
blame o'leary's cow

there is no box

where i grew up, you tell a person something and they believe it. what people thought of you was none of your business. when you got drunk you did it in the next town.

i admire people that can come up with ideas alone. with songs, or dialogue. i admire people that can think outside themselves.

when itunes is on shuffle, i started to skip songs it would select for me. after a while i skipped each song. then i uninstalled itunes.

i put all the cds on a shelf that's out of my reach. i glued the pages of my books. i cancelled cable and got banned from theatres. i insulted my society and quit my job.

don't answer the phone, pull the blinds. curl up.

you got the silver

the wedding

she turns into him and says, 'you haven't heard Winner's Blues'?

the sun is slanted into both of their eyes, heading south towards memphis.

he is dying to get back to the city, but there's no way they're gonna make it tonight. he's trying not to think about it.

'put it on' he says, and 'can i have a smoke?'

it's the only tape in the console, he notices as she reaches in, other wrist on the wheel, cigarette dangling from her fingers. One-handed she unfolds the cassette cover and chucks the tape into his lap. it's clear red.

'first song, second side.'

the player swallows the cassette and a green arrow comes on. there's the sound of tape catching up to the spool, and she says: