How do you feel about introspective measures?
The way you should, of course.
They’re bunk, bogus, unreliable
I could tell you that I’m doing great
That I have a strong and disciplined mind, thankfully, or else I might go mad
That I strung myself in a corner by growing too fond of a muddled idea
That it’s almost like ripping latex from flesh
That, meanwhile, I wrote seven poems
That I’ve waited for rain and need a scarecrow
That I’ve been trying to figure out whose DVDs are who’s, and I delight in the hand labeled ones
That I’m digging “Reflections and Echoes”, the double DVD rockumentary on Pink Floyd. I’m hoping there’s some Floyd here somewhere. Maybe there was a CD, maybe I already loaded it.
- - -
UPDATE: the Pink Floyd, the Dark Side of the Moon CD, is actually another, and in my mind, inferior, DVD rockumentary. But that could just be disappointment talking- - -
That I’m wondering what the AM Gold CD is.
It’s molded like a 45, and I wonder if it could be played on a turntable.
It starts with a soft-rock riff,
so I imagine it’s a soft-rock compilation
- - -
UPDATE: it’s a sampling of various pop genres of olden songs you can imagine listening to in a 70s convertible, baby blue- - -
- - -
UPDATE: you probably have a fro, and a bedazzled jumpsuit, purple with wide lapels, pink with navy trim. Covered in glitter that you probably call fairy dust.
A platform boot stomps on an accelerator, a glove yanks a handbrake, a convertible skids onto the main two-lane blacktop.
Baby Blue bites down on a cinnamon toothpick, releases the brake and rockets into the sunset- - -
- - -
UPDATE: there is also Muzak up in here- – -no, wait, it’s brilliant- - -
[pouting face]- - -
[flushed face]- - -
it’s an unobtrusive melody, with innocuous instrumentation, and the only words are a harmonic chorus weaving in from time to time: “you left me just when I needed you most”- - -
[sort of unhappy face]- - -
[vaguely unhappy face]- - -
[crying face]- - -
That yesterday it dawned on me introspection is bunk, bogus, and unreliable.
But how would I know?
[oddly evil and smiling face]
Baby Blue, yet another sorry excuse for a poem, but fuck it.
http://t.co/u6eNrQgp7O