3 licks to get to the center of a tootsie pop, three sisters to pull me three ways, three feathers to fall from the sky, one owl to fly away, and a moon so big it seems if I jumped off this cliff I could reach out and catch it. I don’t know where I’m going with this, with my life even. From a cliff to a diner. From a teepee to the city. I can’t keep up with myself.
Flashing and flashing. Somewhere in this vast world, I have found my way. Way back machine. I wish I could take the way back machine and just be in another time. See Patti Smith in concert in 1976. Or Jimi Hendrix. Or Janis Joplin. Or Mozart. Imagine that, seeing Mozart conduct one of his orchestras. That’s what I like about orchestras mostly, the conductors.
A boy from the other side of the country wrote me a letter because he thought I sounded like I might groove on his story, which is about an evolver—someone who had it rough but came out the other side.