the moon hung itself so picture-perfectly in the sky tonight, cartoonishly crescent shaped and american yellow. its scenes like this that keep me moving forward- i was raised amphibious, you see, never quite able to wring out or soak up and become something new. i've been trapped in the deciduous humidity and i said once that youre the rotten wood moulding nearby; that was cruel, i know, but how perfect a choice of words? ive been missing the kan-arkansan night, those stars were unlike anything else. was that the night we made it into memphis? it felt so much later than that. burning farmhouses and infinite highways, traintracks running along side us- knowing me, i probably dreamt it up. it was all too perfect. probably that's why i went and ruined it. my temperate temper never could handle a tidier climate, and i love to put you in my box. i almost managed it out in the desert, but something brought the rain back to me and that dense wet heat crept its way back into my lungs. maybe i ought to try again. maybe next time i'll take the other route, from the bottom of the ocean or tumbling under a rapid; maybe it would be easier to soak up so much more that theres no room left for what was!
