and oh, the places we'll go.and oh, the places well go.august 19/07late afternoon, we amble through the mountainsidein a hand-me-down car that probably runs on coal.but not really. the sun is warm, slipping itself throughtree leaves like fingers through just-brushed hair.and the tape deck is an old friend of ours. we let ithiss from the speakers with hazy words that slideinside our ears, making us grin into the side viewmirrors. so we look at ourselves -- track the vagabondshadows traversing our features and count the fadingfreckles we saved up over the summer like ourcheeks were piggybanks. i inhale and taste autumnon my tongue: dead leaves, a rusted palette onthe forest floor; thin air, a surprise to my pinklungs; grey wool, wrapped around my neck withfibers stuck to my dewy lips. and oh. i lay myhead against the crushed velvet of the passengerseat. its virgin blue fabric kisses my eyelashes asi try and tally the number of wooden poles we pass.the geese are flying overhead in so
tuesday, we are royaltytuesday, we are royaltyaugust 10/07we are the kings and queens of liberty --freedom inherited and lining our pocketsas a small fortune bursting at the seamsand upand outand now we throw open our young handsto collect whatever tonights air is offeringi still myself and scan the room like a camera lens,willing these familiar participants into a slow motionvelocity in opposition to the frenetic molecules they arewe are chargedwe are sciencewe, of the laughing, footloose alliancebuild up one million walls of sound like a homeof perpetual music and nostalgia, to live insideuntil the sonic boom of our euphoria destroysthe place in a last quake of discontroland this is what tonights air is offering:we are rogue ionswe are electricitywe, the kings and queens of liberty.