Monday, August 15, 2005

true love.

so i'll do my part
not to break your heart
and baby, don't break mine
because i adore you
and i know for sure
you're the spark on the sun
I love the Fruit Bats beyond all reason. I got a chance to listen to their new album yesterday (several times) driving to and from Fresno, a 2.5 hour drive that also allowed me to groove to Kelly Clarkson, Annie, and the new New Pornographers. It feels good to fall in love with a band - it's a fabulous affair, one that allows no broken hearts and allows me to give myself fully while not worrying about etiquette and what others think and no missing, none at all, but still the lovely painful twangs when I listen to "Earthquake of '73." Indeed, I will nurture the love we share and keep it close to my side, and oh, it should be my own little true love, singing of nonsensical things and the beauty of the world.
Yesterday I saw a bear at the zoo. He was alone and pacing and had claws half a foot long. The zookeeper came to the fence and held up a bunch of grapes. Grinning, the bear came to the edge of his habitat and squatted on his hind legs and held his paws out to the side like he was about to give the grapes a big brown bear embrace. 'Oh, I'm so ready,' I bet he was thinking. 'Throw the grapes to me, I will catch them in my mouth!' The zookeeper threw the grapes and they landed on the ground in front of his torso, his paws still spread out waiting to catch them. 'Where are they? Where are they?' . . . 'Oh, drat.' And as the bear was shifting his massive weight to get the grapes lying between his legs, a friendly zoo guest chucks another bunch of grapes. . . right at the bear.
I saw two hookers at the gas station. I assume they were hookers - they were scantily clad and had high heeled shoes on and were leaning through the window of a black pick-up. I wonder what they were saying. How do they know who to approach? Who pays for the motel room? Is it included in the price of the tryst? Is it cheaper then if they just do a backseat job or something? I wonder. But not really.

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