it's raining on the other side of these walls. the thunder reminds us of the times we hoped for nothing but storms and creepy fishing boats to sink. we wave sometimes to pretend that nothing is changing. but you've gone on and i've gone off to get lost and devistated. the lightning is lighting up the land. the bright light reminds me that my night life is crumbling when the pitch black begins to lose its pitch. but devistation is not the same thing as disaster. one's all smiles, one's all laughter. top it off. clap and cough. feel the rough. this is the little stuff. trees are snapping. trash is slapping my windows. i'm mapping out the stuff that the wind blows. he's blowing kisses. she's making fists. he's sinking boats. it's sinking in. she knows that things are changing.

eight hundred miles for you. eight hundred miles for me. what can i say? it's not so hapless. it's not so harsh. i can take it. so i sit on the porch and i listen to traffic. i read the paper. this is water. this is wood. this is your living room. this feels good. half fiction, half documentary. i'm right on. no. i don't know. there is distance more than miles. but our ideas are adjoining canals.

when reason makes a trip to the other side, we slip under the cover, swim in the town's tide. let go just to discover how little we know about each other, how often we avoid each other's eyes. it's like hail on our backs. we're digging up nothing but broken bones. we determine too much over the telephone. it's like stale laughter and fake smile soup. this tastes like shit. you taste like shit sometimes. you'd be more fun if you weren't so afraid of getting a little salt in your eyes.

you've had those torn jeans on for days. you keep humming that same song. we never argue but they say it's bad if we get along. on the phone you dry your eyes. you know i can't explain regardless of the direction the earth turns we've got to walk the other way. if you've got to say it i won't mind. i can't justify your pain by saying it's just a matter of time. i got your letter in my box and i was almost ashamed to read it with a smile when i knew i ought to toss it away. i never knew what horrible destruction could happen to this place. it's all silent and defying in our heads, in this case.

am i missing something in the way you said to me, "we're missing something, let's find the vacancy." the object shouldn't be to be on top of things. we agree that falling off is more interesting. together we've come to the conclusion that all is won even if we're losing. all is successful just as long as we're smiling. together we're lost in confusion. which is fine, our perilous delusion. camp fire, hill top excursion. explosions. it's funny how it happens after so many distant years. you find an outlet in a pair of once distant eyes. fears and rules and fences blow away in our wind. finally there is nothing left to cage us in. i climb. you dive. i slide. you drive. the proof shatters windows. yeah, we're still alive.