notes: 1/6/05

One:

it’s snowing, but not sticking. limited visibility past the parking lot. ink, meet paper; screen, meet font.

Two:

choosing your life is like flipping a foreign coin, seeing the result, then walking away. you know what you got, but you never learn what was on the other side.

Three:

if you turn a guitar amplifier’s gain control all the way up you’ll hear the air crackle in front of the grille. the guitar itself won’t bark till it’s stroked. stroke it; you’ll hear the air grate fuzz and shatter itself solid. a life is like that; built of broken symphonics that are lovely because they are broken.

Four:

on the edge of the parking lot is a path. no footsteps in it. slick as a flatwound string. frost’s kind of trail. stay off it; no amount of silver will buy your way back out again, and there’s more than enough literature out there about such roads.

when do you leave?

About Tony Brown

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A poet with a history in slam, lots of publications; my personal poetry and a little bit of daily life and opinions. Read the page called "About..." for the details. View all posts by Tony Brown

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