Dirty Three - Ocean Songs - Sea Above, Sky Below
[ post nasal drip ]
Two days three nights, not much of a trip, in fact it was less like a vacation, less like a break and more like my body telling me once again that it had had enough. It wasn’t until Friday night that I glanced at the calendar to get a better understanding of where everything is. The short rides to work brief me on the world’s happenings as do the short rides back. In between news stories I get to be a friend to one of my closest. Over lunch we banter about the cups and their capacities and how one might consider the brighter side of the situation. Limited to that hour we drink up, our tired torsos down four floors back to work witcha. A new era of indentured servitude. We are trying hard we promise. We don’t get sick from others, we get sick because eventually we have nothing left. Then, as if the illness had never happened, we are back at it, whatever “it” may be. Hustlin’ hard, for amounts we’ve never known before and quite often for amounts we wished were more than just free. We feed each other like kings and queens here and there. I forget where I am going with this… ah yes…clocking out from the second job, on to the next. / one fruit fly two nuggets. all garbage. / the lights were left on. he hasn’t moved from that pose in years, has aged yet still managed to retain his youth. / fever sweats, sweaty socks, sore neck. / for some the night is young.