Fall, Stay Slow

First morning of hot cocoa at the farmer's market, but afternoon iced coffee.
I walk to the library after class and pick up one DVD, two books, and linger in the sun.
Windows open weekend. Car windows down tonight, the new M Night.
The scary can't come fast enough.
The people are out, the bus trips are long, there are birthdays, there are scarves,
lots of football jerseys, and a street festival winding down. Reggae band for no one.
Open the sharp block. Spin class Saturday. Rehearsal for the Scooby Doo sketch.
New hardware and old feelings
in the gut. The smoke smell is coming.

Pits

It's hot. It's really stupid hot, and I still love Arizona with all my heart, but I am done with above 100 days.

Summer is special. There is a feel. Limeade, reading novels, late mornings, what day is it. That feel is rancid in this September broil. Yes, I miss the forest of Michigan, I miss the sidewalk outside my dad's house, I miss the season of childhood freedom.

And I hate you, Arizona, for pretending it's not expired when it's roadkill.

Wisconsin in June.

To Me, This Is Fall in Chicago

"The pennycandystore beyond the El
 is where I first
                 fell in love
                             with unreality
 Jellybeans glowed in the semi-gloom
 of that september afternoon
 A cat upon the counter moved among
                           the licorice sticks
                and tootsie rolls
        and Oh Boy Gum

 Outside the leaves were falling as they died

 A wind had blown away the sun

 A girl ran in
 Her hair was rainy
 Her breasts were breathless in the little room

 Outside the leaves were falling
                      and they cried
                         Too soon!  too soon!"

Never Forget

Today Andrew McMahon announced that he will no longer be performing with Jack's Mannequin. This has seriously saddened me. I mean, yeah, I've seen him in concert six times, but I always thought I'd make it to fifteen. Ten at LEAST.

I have hope he will still perform in some capacity in the future...but it won't be the same. Just like how he would only play one SoCo song in the early says of JM...will all my favorites be pushed to the wayside? Will he even make any more music? He might not.

Most of the time, I believe things should die. Things are just things, and they are not meant to be forever. Friendships grow and change and dry. Fashions come in and go out. We get too old for camp. We get too serious to sleep-in. We get too relaxed to mince words.

But I always hoped that Andrew's music-making would outlive me.

Admittedly, his last album was my least favorite of them all. And, admittedly, I'm not the same gushing girl when he posts a blog on his website. I see his Instagram, and I'm like, "Yeah. Typical." I used to be in love with his hippy dip persona when I was a junior in college. Probably because that's the age when HE got popular, and, you know, I think he stayed there. And I didn't.

But, I still thought...I don't know. I still thought something.

Uptown Theatre in Kansas City. 2010 SoCo Reunion Tour.

Would it be in poor taste that this is the biggest tragedy that's ever happened on September 11th? Yes, I guess so. I won't say that.

You spin around me like a dream,
we played out on this movie screen,
and I said, "Did you know I miss you?"

EDIT: Coincidentally, I just saw this post went up at 11:11...

Hiding at the Bottom of Your Swimming Pool Some September

Thanksgivin' Turkey Trot with Pookie. 2010.

LOOK AT US WEARING COATS LIKE SUCKERS! It's mid September, and it was over 100 today. I read about Shakespeare by the pool in my two piece. Word. Up.

I thank the heavens above for the things that remind me of the good parts of growing up in the Chicago suburbs. The feelings that I can only name by the images and sounds associated with them. Dark blue kitchen tablecloth, chirpchirpchirp, eating sliced strawberries with wet hair, spiders in glass jars, train whistles in the early morning, pine cones, fat comic anthologies, the railing of the public library.

And I thank the heavens for the flecks and flakes of it that have followed me here. And I thank the heavens in general.

And it's unclear.
This may be the last song.