offbeat, offkey, often we are off to see
dirt cheap wizards behind neon signs
in flickering electric memory
in polka-dot colors, chromatic designs
outside a chorus of whizzing rhymes
we find ourselves without a home
without the words we used to use
we find ourselves quite free to roam
on brick-road metaphors, if we choose
without very much at all to lose
from empty pockets of childhood bliss
with ruby shoes along strange terrain
where we lose ourselves in a poppy kiss
consulting exposed histories in the rain
to sing along, a horse without a tether
in a wonderful land of because, because
we can meet, I swear, whatever the weather
we can meet by the music of whatever once was
The website. A creative endeavor? Or just a popular distraction?
I haven’t written a real poem this year. I haven’t finished a new chapter on my novel. Those are just the facts, the drapes pulled back as you stand in nothing but your skivvies, the milk from the back of the fridge, the dirty laundry kicked into the center of the room with the suggestion that someone is going to do something about it.
What about a chapbook? It’s an idea that been kicking me around for a while.
My heart is full of modern ambitions and yet cluttered with this strange connection to the past. I’m in the same situation as a lot of artists. I am exactly like musicians who don’t need to make real records anymore. Music is on the internet now, the digital there (wherever there is) in spots and clouds for streaming, for downloading, for easy and sustainable purchase and transport. Our creativity is alive on Tumblr. We’re living on only a handful of newspapers and magazines now. Everything else is clutter. I mean, c’mon, we’re trying to save the planet here. But there is still a magic when you hold a real record in your hands. There is still something to be said for holding a book. And maybe there’s always more than one way to save something, a planet or otherwise.
I made a choice this year to get this website together, to build something out of nothing, and however I feel about it now- a healthy mixture of shame and pride- it’s something I made on my own. I don’t feel like I haven’t tried to join the modern chorus of contemporary expression. I am still trying. And the truth is that I have a lot of ideas about what this website could eventually be someday. More than it is. Less about me. More about taking a look at the letters this generation is writing- about music, to their heroes, about the future, to politicans, and to each other. When I think about it growing, I see great things- but as far as something tangible- I am not sure what I will be left with. A tangible change. That’d be nice.
In the middle of sifting through my thoughts on all this, a good friend posted this video. It felt like a confirmation of everything I am feeling. I realize this is a conversation that my whole generation is having. We are coming to better conclusions every day. It’s nice to think we still have time to come up with more answers.
What about a chapbook? Something real to give away. People still need real things.
