Dan Mangan – The Indie Queens Are Waiting
It’s my birthday on Monday. Most people would be excited. I think most people would be excited, I’m not sure what most people are anymore. I’m coming off a long run of terrible birthdays. Splinters in the bed of palm, reminders not to hold on so hard.
You can’t slow life.
I don’t write much. I eat half-donut crescents straight from the bag, rubbing sugar between my fingertips, leaving guilty crumbs in the folds of his bed. I think about the poetry in everyday moments and compose lines in my head that fade slowly and then, just like that, are gone.
I can’t stop watching or just waiting to see.