All I can really say about this poem is that it contains my own personal favorite quote.
Out of all the things I’ve written down over the years, the lines “we used to look west, now we just look at ourselves” is hands-down my favorite.
There is something about it that just fits so perfectly with the complex that millennials are stuck with. The generation of the “selfie”. It’s one of those things that makes me look like a cunt for saying it, but it is also one of those things that is absolutely true.
"Stuck in…." was about Touria and I traveling back down here to Ohio to visit my family in July one summer. I think it was 2004. It might have been 2005. We were coming down for the 4th of July holiday. I remember my mom being extraordinarily excited because she had not seen me or her for about a year, which, when your family is as close as mine is, is quite awhile to go without seeing a vital part of it.
I remember the bus station. it was one of those places right in the heart of Toronto, where the pigeons and other birds sneak their way inside. I remember rows of chairs covered in bird shit. I remember buying a pack of Export A’s from the newspaper stand because she had burnt through most of mine, as the poem suggests.
Luckily the poem is a more beautiful snapshot than the actual miserable nine hour bus ride from Toronto to Dayton.
"Bones" is one of those stream of conscious sort-of-writing that I do on occasion. It definitely involved sitting on the sofa, watching Daisy go about her time, watching Toby go about his time, watching Elly go about her time, and me just wondering what time was doing.
Sometimes the simplest ones have the deepest corners.
Maybe it is just me.
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