Okay, how can I explain it?
It's like you're driving in a car
and you look out the window and everything seems flat and fleeting
All the trees and grass are just hypothetical
But then, all of a sudden, you realize that the trees are real and whole
and if you weren't driving, you could stop and touch them
They're full in their figure and form
So, you're in your car and feel as though you could lift up those trees from the roots,
gather all their molecules and hold them
Well, that's how I felt the first time I saw you
Like I'd been driving and tree after tree had passed and I felt nothing
I saw you and wanted to hold you, only you
I wanted to hold you down while everything else drove by

Michigan Nightmares

Banging paper sheathed plastic straws on a particle board restaurant table,
A Big Boy in some Upper Peninsula tourist town
Grey fog and simpering classic tunes, computer rendered
Brown laminate flooring and stained glass lampshades
Salad bars and battered everything
Giant stuffed Nickelodeon figures suspended from the ceilings
A berry festival for every town
A sweater for every state
Too friendly girls in yellow shirts refill coffee cups
Garlic bread made out of hotdog buns, prison style

Novelties and sunglasses and blue-red-white ribbons
Strained and blatant patriotism
Tired and numb and nauseous
Second day on the road



Uncomplimentary Colours

I can't stand next to you
I'm green, you're blue
My colour's much too close to you.



When the haybales look like gravestones,
and you piss me off far too exquisitely to ever let you go..



Another 2-lane Canadian Highway
Driving 50 in an 80
Forced to enjoy the beauty the pavement dissects
The endless train of fuming cars
behind the lead who refuses to check her mirror
Condemns the grain
Blurs the spruce
Smears the wonder



The more I teach you,
the more I teach you to live without me.

Copyright © a contemplation (Emily Jones) 2013. All rights reserved.