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seattle sunny days in january are
something
else. when i was a kid watching black
and
white movies i used to imagine what the
colors must have been like when they
were filming--the grey cars red, the
white
sky blue. then along came ted turner
and
colorization and it seemed wrong, fake.
a little like today. the day started
orange
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
coming
through film noir windows--clean because
it hasn't yet rubbed itself dirty over
the
city, think of erasers and words you
did-
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
traci's
sobbing saab whose right front tire
hissed
flat after she parked it.
fish
heads, dried
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. |
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