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the long way around

The living room is a forest of mic stands and cables. A cup of coffee, a large glass of water and a shallow shot of whiskey sit on the tiny white table. I alternate between them, making sure the guitar is in tune, trying to understand if the chair will creak when I lean my head back on the second chorus.  There is a hush in the room. I can hear my own heartbeat. The lyrics are printed out on a fresh piece of paper, large and thick so I can read them easily even though I sing with my eyes closed and will surely forget a handful of words no matter what I do.

The guitar sounds dry, perfect - even honest. I can play a simple D chord with a long strum, or the side of my thumb and it sounds so different. I record a few takes, barefoot in the bright room. I am going too fast in some parts, and my fingers are already sore from the chord changes.

And then all at once, I am thinking of a show I played in an old factory in Brooklyn, way back when I had just started writing songs almost twenty y…

the taste of coins

The best part of the day comes at 5:30, when I pick up E from detskie sad. I often see her before she sees me. Her fluffy green jacket is still a little big. She stands with giant eyes, chattering with the other children. I see them dancing in a circle, holding hands. I see them running and hiding behind bushes, and under the apple tree.

I had just seen the blind girl from poje (later) in the street.

She was walking better, but still not very well. I thought to call out to her, but felt this was intrusive. Somehow I thought she would need to recognize me - not the other way around - for this sort of run-in to work.

Her eyes wide open, her face turned towards the sky and the light rain that fell on both of us.

Later, E came back to the office with me, where she would decorate the room with corn flakes, dolls and clay.

Passing under Smolenskaya, some stray dogs gnawed on blood red bones. Some guys sat around them, drinking cheap beer and smoking. I felt an algae taste in my mouth, like the back of my throat was covered with pennies. I could feel a cold coming on, and surrendered to it.

The snow was coming, and it would be easier once it arrived. A sort of relief, for the long slow winter to start.

Comments

brenda said…
Wait a minute. How could the girl recognize you, if she's blind? But oh how I love "the taste of algae" and the cold coming on. Cold, in every sense of the word.
ccn said…
Lovely blog. I walk around here feeling full to bursting often too... and I have an E who is almost four. We should get them together some time. We live near Patriarshy.
Rabbit blogger said…
ccn! sending you an email.
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