sunday afternoon.

sometimes, i feel like i have really messed things up.
i can never predict what's going to happen next..

but a weekend like this, tends to make everything feel alright again.

wednesday morning.

i'm thinking back to when we were young
and eating donuts
with a set of plastic vampire teeth
that we were passing back and fourth.
we weren't so young as to
think a dog was a horse.
nor were we old enough yet to name
the cold purpose of musical chairs.
we were like-minded spirits
ekeing out a rhythm
whispering transmissions
through wet winter mittens.
growing up on toboggan hill
nothing was material.

i'm thinking back to when we were young
if only to find out
forensically
what it was
we used to
want.

my parents told me i could have a little bird.
they told me to behave & if i did they would bring one home.
& i would put it in a beautiful gold cage lined on the bottom with yesterday's newspapers,
always yesterdays,
'cause i would change them everyday.

already there was a little bird i wanted,
small & brown, he sat outside the kitchen window sometimes.
he didn't sing, not noisy & brightly coloured.
i loved him.
if you broke up your sandwich crusts & left them on the sill he would always come for them.

i wouldn't lock you up small & brown! i would let you fly around our house
& bring you sandwich crusts, always.
but you would remember me, you would!

you would fly right down next to my eye
& give me a stare so strong that i would just know right away how much you loved me.

he would have been such a perfect bird & i was sure to be on my best behaviour always.
i even forgot about biting my fingernails.
but they brought home a different bird.
it was yellow & had a funny name.

they told me small & brown birds were only for looking at.
i started eating my sandwich crusts again.
this bird made too much noise & i hated it.


i want this one.

life.

i try my best.

i'd like to get off this train, but the ticket inspector won't let me rush through.
i might just run, but i really don't have the funds to pay a fine.

but, i said i would let you try to explain it all again..
birds can only fly so high.

it may seem like a stretch, but i hope i could guide you home.
you've gotten so far away.

home again.

thank god for long weekends!
thank god for great friends.