September 15th, 2007
Kyoto speaks to Pittsburgh speaks to Tokyo speaks to San Diego
In rice fields, past town centers, a slowly dying shopping center, an express train on the fours, a zoo, an Italian restaurant, and the end of me believing.
Yes and no, time is moving and no it doesn’t really matter because we all learn, and the days fall off the calendar. I looked out over the Kamogawa with the same eyes I saw the sun set on Heijo, and a hundred thousand men before me dreamt of power while I only thought of Keihan Shijo. One man’s agony is another’s delight, for the woman that left went on to be something I’ll never know, and it’s not worth really recognizing. The wheel of that damned rental Ford slipped through my hands, and in between the pools and sauna I beat my head on the dashboard while praying to God to cut my heart out.
The song haunted me all spring, I remember it on the radio while coasting up the off ramp at dusk as fresh as the full moon. Pavement, urban sprawl, Capcom and Tiajuana, it wasn’t meant to be anything for me but an ocean to drop to my knees before and look across.
