Can't stand up so she sits down left barely awake
Red in the face and hair still wet from the lake
Eyes scan weakly across her friends
of middle class B+ college freshmen
Gone and moved away, why else would they stay?
They'll all be gone too one day.
But the gang was all together again
and to us, it all seemed alright then
How dizzy you must have been
Rests head down, silent in her inhibitions
Low in these thoughts leaves this high indecision
What will you say next?
I don't think even you could guess.
But not lost in his inhibitions- lost in deep thought
Reading symbols in the bright red orange flickering mass
Waiting too for this moment's pass
Their otherness sees me not as I see them
Reality fostered for each facet of self
Who's life am I connecting?
Who else?
As she reaches into the flame and pulls out her image
of VSCO posts and road trips to her family's 2nd backwoods cabin
and fake Polaroids tucked neat into the back of her phone
How oddly gracefully she moves
Like a deer, but unable to run away from all this company
and all unseeing of her own blind feral beauty
Semi-boldly still, onward she is feeling
No sense of fear in this action, this moment
Unprepared and unremembering but present still, no less than us
Back quickly from the flame and pass it off
And I wonder what sleeps in the empty wooden cabin across the lake
and I think about who lived there and what they did and why
What was lost to leave paradise?
He is still the young boy, now with half a college education
He is looking up at the semi-clear nightly sky where they light has found its next reflector.
The light that has found him that came from a star that has long since died before our parents, our country and earth, before he or I
The star that in a way is still pulsing its creation
How humbling this astral chart can be
How perfect in its unchanging pattern
When they looked up long ago; the same
Making stories of the glow
Not shining for us, not anyone, but just so.
It's the apathy I find to comfort in a place of so much consequence
Stargazing with its great desolipsition
I came from nothing but I have grown since now
I came from nothing but one day I'm passed around
Like a bottle of cinnamon whisky going from mouth to mouth
And to nothing I may return as he gets up and into the air
It runs over stones and sinks into this tired ground before a new one is passed around
Fire turns from novel to the centre of the night where it illuminates these faces, sunken eyes, a new girl where she is singing all the words to the only real country song she likes
It all comes again to this
Fire on the dark and starry canvas, the glow into abyss
They start the worst played crib game this place will ever see
It all moves slow beneath the screen, as gentle as it could have been
And slowly now, they retreat
To their houses of rubber and plastic and steel
And at this end we were somewhere in between of a long-tired joke and those tourist magazines
2 stories collided, one infesting the other with its Honda Fits and birthday parties and instant vegan TV suppers
And I was there too, just unpresent in this action
I didn't have to choose not to belong
And I wonder what looms on the grey and green mountain across the lake
and i think about who lived there and what they did and why
What was lost to leave paradise?
[01:23.150]Can't stand up so she sits down left barely awake
[01:27.186]Red in the face and hair still wet from the lake
[01:30.631]Eyes scan weakly across her friends
[01:34.501]of middle class B+ college freshmen
[01:37.901]Gone and moved away, why else would they stay?
[01:42.116]They'll all be gone too one day.
[01:45.182]But the gang was all together again
[01:47.671]and to us, it all seemed alright then
[01:49.854]How dizzy you must have been
[01:53.701]Rests head down, silent in her inhibitions
[01:57.152]Low in these thoughts leaves this high indecision
[02:01.500]What will you say next?
[02:04.524]I don't think even you could guess.
[02:12.051]But not lost in his inhibitions- lost in deep thought
[02:15.822]Reading symbols in the bright red orange flickering mass
[02:20.371]Waiting too for this moment's pass
[02:23.406]
[02:27.492]Their otherness sees me not as I see them
[02:31.549]Reality fostered for each facet of self
[02:35.213]Who's life am I connecting?
[02:37.037]Who else?
[02:38.535]
[02:39.265]As she reaches into the flame and pulls out her image
[02:42.804]of VSCO posts and road trips to her family's 2nd backwoods cabin
[02:46.474]and fake Polaroids tucked neat into the back of her phone
[02:49.844]How oddly gracefully she moves
[02:53.420]Like a deer, but unable to run away from all this company
[02:58.337]and all unseeing of her own blind feral beauty
[03:02.162]Semi-boldly still, onward she is feeling
[03:06.160]No sense of fear in this action, this moment
[03:08.993]Unprepared and unremembering but present still, no less than us
[03:13.614]Back quickly from the flame and pass it off
[03:16.865]
[03:21.887]And I wonder what sleeps in the empty wooden cabin across the lake
[03:27.205]and I think about who lived there and what they did and why
[03:32.389]What was lost to leave paradise?
[03:36.508]
[04:01.281]He is still the young boy, now with half a college education
[04:08.290]He is looking up at the semi-clear nightly sky where they light has found its next reflector.
[04:16.283]The light that has found him that came from a star that has long since died before our parents, our country and earth, before he or I
[04:24.190]The star that in a way is still pulsing its creation
[04:31.359]How humbling this astral chart can be
[04:34.291]How perfect in its unchanging pattern
[04:36.638]When they looked up long ago; the same
[04:39.338]Making stories of the glow
[04:41.607]Not shining for us, not anyone, but just so.
[04:45.905]It's the apathy I find to comfort in a place of so much consequence
[04:50.646]Stargazing with its great desolipsition
[04:53.254]
[04:54.566]I came from nothing but I have grown since now
[04:57.872]I came from nothing but one day I'm passed around
[05:01.700]Like a bottle of cinnamon whisky going from mouth to mouth
[05:08.718]
[05:09.659]And to nothing I may return as he gets up and into the air
[05:16.970]It runs over stones and sinks into this tired ground before a new one is passed around
[05:22.616]
[05:24.557]Fire turns from novel to the centre of the night where it illuminates these faces, sunken eyes, a new girl where she is singing all the words to the only real country song she likes
[05:38.043]It all comes again to this
[05:40.713]Fire on the dark and starry canvas, the glow into abyss
[05:47.027]They start the worst played crib game this place will ever see
[05:54.967]It all moves slow beneath the screen, as gentle as it could have been
[06:00.212]And slowly now, they retreat
[06:02.462]To their houses of rubber and plastic and steel
[06:10.711]And at this end we were somewhere in between of a long-tired joke and those tourist magazines
[06:17.732]2 stories collided, one infesting the other with its Honda Fits and birthday parties and instant vegan TV suppers
[06:25.756]And I was there too, just unpresent in this action
[06:29.277]I didn't have to choose not to belong
[06:32.578]
[08:50.782]And I wonder what looms on the grey and green mountain across the lake
[08:55.374]and i think about who lived there and what they did and why
[08:59.863]What was lost to leave paradise?