No Place.
February 24, 2011
No Place
my unraveling youth may take place here
a city with the romanticized decay of just another age
a place full of irresistible geometric grandeur
strained of any real inconsonance
no, just the pretty shell
where grayness is tinctured with the granular glow
of a 70′s television show
to the point where it looks brown
we live in this soft brownness
and it’s great
You are here right by my side
so close you could never possibly obtrude
and we’re projected onto flickering walls
with happily unaware obliviousness
A gentle jangle in the background
we could go dancing or
I think if I tried hard enough
I could make it rain
Isn’t it wonderful?
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“we live in this soft brownness”
Are you describing the brownness of the shit-colored buildings that comprise our campus? haha. These concrete rooms that hold us captive for our temporary sentence at this prison of banality? Here of all places, amid the abhorrent decay of this city? I revere your optimism, my friend.
Yet the conclusion to this inspiring poem leaves me feeling appeased, as if its all a wonderfully fucked up dream.