Welcome to small town America.
It’s quite quaint and quiet but we talk a little more.
This is Main Street.
A commerce filled boulevard of barber shops and butcher shops, blacksmiths and ice cream parlors.
Ah, can’t forget the general store.
Empty streets and old cars parked in slanted parking spots, kissing the sidewalk.
Bright pale colors.
Reds, blues, greens, white.
White.
The smell of Autumn every day of the year.
A smile and a “Hello” behind every door.
And behind these brick walls of stores rests your new start.
Aisles and aisles of houses packed neatly.
Some quite old and some even newer but still aged.
On Maple Lane is where you will reside.
Over there, in the yellow one with the garage, that’s Joey the barber’s.
2 doors down lives Mike the butcher and wife.
And that house right there, in between them, with the white fence, that one’s yours.
It comes equipped with a lack of responsibility, a fresh rep. and, most importantly, a jacuzzi for the long days.
Mrs. Adamsworth, from across the street, is jealous.
Everyone on the block already knows your name but don’t fright, everything they said was nice.
Oh, and 4 doors down and across the street lives Melanie or Mel, whichever you prefer.
She lives in the cute little seagreen house with the white window panes.
She’s the one that will take your vows one day and, don’t worry, she’s already got her eye on you.
She’s got bright blonde hair and these big green eyes.
She likes jazz and Van Gogh, Back To The Future and Pleasantville.
She’s never ruled out that her life could be like The Truman Show
and she loves the rain.
Gloomy days are perfect for anything and she’s gotta sleep with the air conditioner on.
And as you dream she sees the skyline of Chicago, at night, from the 50th floor balcony.
She grew up on Boy Meets World and Family Matters, Home Improvement and MTV
And she’s convinced that Football is divinely inspired.
Doesn’t drink coffee much but will sip on your hot chocolate.
Her quarterback will always be Brett Favre and will wake with you to watch a 4 a.m. tennis match from the All England Club.
She likes sprinkles atop her ice cream and pizza is a love but her specialty is lasagna and for dessert, some carrot cake.
She’d rather eat at Mel’s than McDonalds and a cozy night in is always one better than a night on the town.
Don’t get her wrong though.
She’s always down for a dance in the middle of central park under the city lights.
She listens to almost everything and her favorite CD is still Tragic Kingdom,
But any acoustic anything will melt her heart.
She votes Republican, I know you can’t win ’em all.
It’s only ’cause her mama does, but she spells God: L-O-V-E.
She doesnt mind seeing the world from the book sitting at the fireplace but would hop on the first flight to Palermo or Edinburgh or Dublin.
Did I mention that she loves the rain?
You’re on your own from here and I know you know the way back.
This is the beginning of your new life.
Everyone here is so fond.
Just remember… The way back doesn’t always lead home.
Never forget that…
And as the sun leaves us empty of light for the day, this man is just looking for the next place to sleep tonight.
And off behind a wall he disappears but I am unable to empathize with the feeling he must be experiencing tonight.
Oh, how awful it must be to be homeless for the night or week or years or life.
Begging on the streets for a nickel or a dime or anything you got.
I’d give him my love if he would’ve taken it.
But he was just looking for a smile, not a stare.
Because he’s no different than me.
Hell, I’m just a few bucks richer but with a whole lot more luck.
And my feelings, these feelings!
Based on selfish emotion.
I know what I have and how lucky I am to have it but it didn’t take this moment to realize the beauty I live within.
I know that regardless.
It’s just an observation of a lonely man, with a lonely night and a lonely heart.
Right there, on the grass, slept an old coffee cup and empty pack of cigarettes.
It was all used up and tossed.
It looked starved for food or attention.
Someones simple pleasure just laid there in a coma.
It looked so sad and thrown away.
And for some reason this grass just wasn’t as green but this goddamn pack of smokes and starbucks just sat there.
Just used up for its good to make someone else smile and feel better.
A temporary flight into bliss.
And I swear it’s crawling for help but its knees are too weak to walk.
Someone, here, abandoned this bliss like he took it for granted and gifted this patch grass with it.
Now let me clear it up that I’m not worried about the cup or the box or the litter it has become.
I’m worried that a coffee and a cigarette could ever really make someone smile.
And for the first time I can see the veins tunneling my blood from roadway to roadway.
Silently they flow like rivers into oceans.
Silt and water filled they dance down the hills into an open field of blue and space.
“Where to go,” we think.
Just like them I think.
Juts like men I think.
No thinking here.
Think.
Thoughts drown out the sound.
CONFUSION.
It stands here.
Yet I can breathe.
With such ease my lungs can soak in the breeze and mist of the air above.
CONFUSION.
Nah.
No confusion here love.
I wonder what’s more important?
The boardwalk on the pier to the empty sand and water,
Or the city’s constant flight of light and sound.
The moon sits quietly glamorous in between the clouds.
The clouds appear like little puzzle pieces, scattered around a table, as they slowly come together to form a blanket over us tonight.
Yet, with all the clouds, the moon remains untouched.
The star that clings to it must be a million light years away,
But tonight it’s just looking for a friend.
A little patch of clouds under this velvet purple night.
They’re surrounded by a sprinkle of stars from space
But they’ve yet to reach ground.
They are suspended in the night sky.
And if only I could turn off these city brights
And stare right into the star that shines the most light.
It’s got me twisting words.
The higher you look up the darker the sky gets.
From the purple that sleeps atop the back of the mountain
to the black up above that seems endless with thought.
These stars appear frozen in time falling to Earth.
I am reminded of the peace we sleep under.
Look at the cloud now, it’s disappeared.
I love this intersection,
And the simple lights,
And this left hand turn lane.
I can see some orange plastic and clear glass piled up nicely on the ground in front of me as I wait for the cars to pass.
This all gets a little more dangerous everyday.
This light.
It flickers above the street as if to tell me something.
It’s more of a blaring motion than a flicker… but it’s just as moving.
And it’s beautiful to watch and witness the structure we put up come alive on its own.
None of the other lights are talking tonight.
It takes my thoughts away.
This light is warning me of something.
It caught me from a distance.
Something peaceful.
Something in paradise.
It’s like flipping the last page of a book you just can’t put down.
Reading that final sentence to tie up the story in a beautiful bow.
You go back to page 1 and read the first word and then back to read the last.
And you’re sad you’ve read every little piece to the puzzle you’ve just put together.
But happy you’ve flown through this incredible story you’ll never forget.
And it scares me.
Ever get weak knees?
Well, I got ’em.
Ever heard of weak feet?
Me neither.
I got those too.
I’m the sun of this physical disaster.
You see, I’ve felt pretty.
I’ve felt beauty.
I’ve felt gorgeous breathing upon my ear.
I’ve felt sight for years and years.
Standards only take seconds to begin yet last lifetimes.
Did you see what it looked like?
You would understand.
I’ve had my moments.
Oh, this is the time!
A dangerous time!
Of best and wonderful.
Too much time to think about one.
With caution signs alerting the driver of a chemical explosion up above.
It rains, pours, upon my vehicle.
But nothing is ending the collapse.
And the thoughts are all scattered.
But since when did selfish deserve organization?
Did I mention I’ve felt gorgeous breathe upon my ear?
As well as hot kissing up my neck?
And voluptious guide its hands to places once forbidden?
All for a shake of the hand. A pat on the back.
But our voices are never heard.
My the mind is mighty.
“The” is gone.
You would’ve died for a taste.
I killed for that handshake.
I’ll be king of hidden potential.
I looked so good from afar…
But baby, I always look good in the mirror.
Remember.
The second you think you may take your hand and grab whatever it is you like, is the second before you are found not worthy enough to have any of it.
Remember.