seattle sunny days in january are
else. when i was a kid watching black
white movies i used to imagine what the
colors must have been like when they
were filming--the grey cars red, the
sky blue. then along came ted turner
colorization and it seemed wrong, fake.
a little like today. the day started
and ended pink. in between was a dream.
rummage was moved
from Nation to the
alibi room, which
is in Pike Place Market,
overlooking the water, the mountains,
the cargo cranes, with clean light
through film noir windows--clean because
it hasn't yet rubbed itself dirty over
city, think of erasers and words you
n't mean. i had meant to sell the found
sounds cd but [im]Perfect Copy was
closed so i couldn't color copy the map
and liner notes. instead, i touched base
with friends at the fremont sunday market
and then caught a ride downtown in
sobbing saab whose right front tire
flat after she parked it.
flowers, chicken gizzards, sunset. john
berry related the true circumstances of
jeff buckley's death. we stood on a
corner and bumped into friends. the
sky, water, and mountains conspired
to bring us into the present. now this
is what's left.
oh yeah, i bought this jacket.