Dead Tracks 17

version x9

VISION

I can only stare down at soap suds in the dishes in the sink.

PROMISE

Never thought it would end like this. happy birthday mommaNot me.

ATLANTA, 1956

Every day reaches into the next but they never change from one to another. Everything is in a thin grey haze. Where is the poetry we knew? The laughter we shared? Where is the promise we once made?

BE HAPPY FOR THIS MOMENT IS YOUR LIFE

One it meant something; now it means nothing. We are absent. Where is the ache my lonely cunt deserves?