*POETRY WARNING* Another American Pie (much love to Mike Doughty)

Time stops in muffler shops.

Reading Slanky while I wait

From somewhere there was sweet perfume
While Don sang me a maudlin tune

Words and notes began to meld
With the spark of heat striking
Metal and I couldn't separate them,

and it didn't matter...

There we were all in one place -
You, me, the music, the spark, the Slanky,

The old man in the khaki pants chewing his calluses

And the greasy, gaptoothed-grinning muffler repair man.


Cut to 20 years later, from IAD through LAX to the Other Washington,

I find you in a 20-year-old journal thrown serendipitously into the travel-bag.

The universe is cyclical. We are all...

Further Reading:

Slanky - M.Doughty

Don't just read it; buy it. I guarantee at least one new perspective for you - Cookie Monster if nothing else.  I was mentally reciting Outlying Seattle as I rode the LINK to SeaTac.  My favorite is the one about butter-churning, though. Also, I want to say the title of the poem referenced is actually Bicostal, but "Transatlantic" is what was written in my journal, so there it remains.


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