upon a time in kentucky

just a journal entry

Twitter, here, there, melodies of birds call across an approaching fall's midday.  Their flighty twills, ariac adagios and sopranic notes drift soft as breeze.  Around me the small town rumblings backdrop with barotone percussion.  A car swiffs past, a train catcalls... and lower still a bass echo of thick Kentuckian drawl from an indecipherable conversation, seeps in slowly for accompaniment. 

"Wha that... comnaw, comonaw, gettera startin..." 

Perhaps with a slow beginning, but eventually a comforting chuckle oozes into the air... and tis so serene for such a serenade that i almost imagine that it's all for me.  Created, conducted, and performed for my benefit... the sounds of this porch...  Yet through my peripheral i am reminded that i uphold no center of attention in this chaotic (still harmonic) symphony.  Slowly sliding, barely crawling, a hearse moves into view, tip-toeing down the street... and slick as night it slinks.  Followed by families behind their high beam-halogen headlights, those that trail with remorse, with care, with sluggish ceremony.  Solemnly, I crosss my heart and listen to nature perform an everlasting elegy...

sleep well.

Reviews

[9thstreetmatt]

definitely remember this being brought out on a sofa, covered in plaid, and rolled cigarette dust in the inception of a new york nightmare. how far things have come and are going. i always enjoyed the heavey influence of language on you, and how you incoroporate its imagery into your writing. . . and you too can make life very spiritual in a matter of sentences.