Home (remix)

It's been a moment since

I was on the hills of Allegheny College,
a stone skip away from the
smooth-around-the-edges
cauldesac of Haven Road:
Wellesley, Massachusetts.

What tempid changes?
afflicted over the month of May;

what personality reforming,
shaking my foundation,
flying to Boston?

Such a drastic shift of scenery,
of atmospheric pressues,
that maybe I'm not so delicate,
such a Rosebud afterall.

But somewhere between

the tumbleweeds that roam the boarders
of Meadville's Walmart
parking lot and that parking lot
of Fell's corner, where

I gazed stoned and dismayed
at the officer who rattled on my
car window with nothing to say,

must be me.

I don't really care,
I just want a place to call home.

-Dann

Rhythm

I love that rhythm. You know that rhythm, everyone has been writing about this rhythm. What makes me so special? Why am I writing about rhythm when everyone else has put it so much more elegant? I don't have rhythm, I don't know the rhythm, but damn I like it. So there, that's why I'm writing about the rhythm. No, I can't show you why, just why it is the rhythm is so special; but don't even try and deny me. I know, I believe, I have faith in the rhythm. So I sure as hell gonna write about it, and I'm going to tell you: it's special. It's fantastic. I love this rhythm.

-Dann out