Chocolate Music, Mexico Music, and the present flavor of Piano

~)o(~








Sunrise on the spring, "bustle cross the freeway," says traffic god Melinda. It's gonna be a beautiful day.
Besides the fact that there's a certain strange and sadistic beauty in thinking about jumping from three stories up, and besides the fact that this kind of thinking hasn't scared me yet, and besides the fact that i miss him and i find myself continually distracted by less than lovely things, the stuff that really blows compared with him, It'll Definitely Be A Beautiful Day.


And speaking of beautiful, on my walk home several morrows before, i found this hole in the fence near the interstate where i could weave through the thorns and briars and stand in the grass to the south side of the busy road. It was a magical moment, among the trees. I had an Over the Rhine concert playing just for me in my own personal ears, and i could hear the pedals of the piano being danced upon and the echo of the hall while standing on the old leaves in the briars. The speeding cars passed me by so close i could see the faces of the people driving.

and I realized

Everyone of these people has had immense pain, everyone of these people is driving to see someone they love or dreading seeing someone they hate at their favorite restaurant, every one of these people has been a kid, been raped, is arguing with someone sitting next to them, is starry eyed over someone else, is driving home to feed the dogs, is playing in a concert this weekend, is having sex with someone else's husband, has been driving for eighteen hours straight, and it's always something. Everyone of these people driving past is real and their movement struck me. Face after blurry face. Dipping piano, beautiful voice and thorns, hands deep thrown in my pockets.

This is my special place. could this be ours? if only i could know you and bring you along to the grassy hill near the quicking interstate, the space between the worlds, the brine stone trees and oak finger bushes, the prickle vines and wet grass times would be for us, you and me.

And I just hope no drunk guy skids off the road over our crouching, kissing bodies.










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