Monday, June 21, 2010

Lush Life.


It's almost 3 in the morn and I'm giving up sleep to write down thoughts and listen to Johnny Hartman and John Coltrane make effortlessly beautiful music together. I don't have insomnia. I never have. In fact, my superpower is that I can sleep pretty much anytime, anywhere. I simply choose to do other things than sleep sometimes. At least I'm able to do this sort of thing without upsetting anybody. That's a plus. And, on that note, I'll share this poem I came across earlier by Richard Jones, because he gets it. He probably also knows that, the longer you live alone, the more you end up talking to yourself. It's true.


White Towels, by Richard Jones

I have been studying the difference
between solitude and loneliness,
telling the story of my life
to the clean white towels taken warm from the dryer.
I carry them through the house
as though they were my children
asleep in my arms.

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