Im just shaking around my room like im in my own little globe
Ive actually never seen this place with so much snow!
My face is held up high in the white
Its like im looking through a window of my life
And all I can see inside are a bunch of great big beautiful ghostlike magic trees catching all the snow in New York City
[But even they cant hold it all and shutter and shimmy every once in a while, dropping what they can to the ground and cars parked underneath, and I think that’s a nice little thing to keep in mind]
A snowblower coughs ptoof-ptoof-gungk-gungk-gungk and comes alive and Im just hanging my head out of my window try to look like a sunflower but I’m still way out of season
[My hands dont know what to do with themselves yet, its too late to reach out but too early to beg]
So Im just listening to sounds of shovels and sleds
Its the type of day to go outside and throw snowballs with your best friend or to get lost looking at old slide film in Brooklyn
Ones with the mountains and the trains and the never to be seen again
But i havent thought for myself yet this morning
[Now I think that ill buy a pizza for dinner]
Then I sit back and spend the day wondering what the world would look like without mirrors and how to see yourself in other eyes
And I believe again that the song of our days is played tight on the strings we thread out into our world, the strings we twist and wrap and choke around our heads and arms and eyes and breast and feet and waist, the chords of every decision we do or do not make, until we [yes, you] become spools of thread, and we unravel ourselves right back where we were going from where we’ve always been
[But I should really just relax, its a short day for a long night]
My eyes finally open to colorless light
I roll on my side again and my shoulders and collarbone bunks and thunks into place, I wring out my fingers
The church van down in the exhibit below is backing up now, trying to park or to get the hell the out
[My head swells like daylight]
And my alarm does me no favors so I throw that damn thing away and crumble around a mountain of pillows and bedding and scents and im all bent and spent in every way imaginable
All the sound in the world is in my room
[But my days are quiet now]
And the loudest thing is my own voice and I know ive got absolutely nothing good to say to I just start thinking about that heart-shaped shelf on the street, the same one my parents had when I was a kid
I should have taken it from the snow, see what it would hold
And someone’s whiteboard sticking from the garbage, to-do lists and “spiritual” affirmations [this column had yet to be filled-in]
But many, many birds are still chirping right here now
I have to come back to me
[Im in same place ive been]
Sorry im just stuck in my time machine then I declare that I need to see something new today
Just like those kids who ran passed me screaming about strawberry elephants and nothingspeak
[Maybe i’ll finally give into fantasy]
I see the woman spinning in place the entire time on the moving subway [she might be an alien or a time traveler, too]
And there's the woman drumming her fist up and down against her heart up, bum bum bum, smiling like she just got the best news
And there's two men in the other car playing real drums, real big bongo-i-guess drums, going bum bum bum, ooh!
But Im still inside that snow globe of my mind or my room [im really so cold now but I can’t bring myself to close my window] and Im getting shaken all around but this time all i can wonder about is what it must be like to brush up against another version of life
So I warm up, promising myself that ill say hi to a stranger today
And those strings start untangling and they start bouncing and BUZZZZZING and I have no clue what im listening to anymore and my ears are folded and creased and my eyes are stuck shut and Im even less sure of the song that im playing with the hands that still dont know what to do with themselves
Then I start smiling like I mean it
[And I remember not to forget just how strange it is to be here]