January 30, 2009KR BlogUncategorized

We live in public.

There is no recording of me calling up a Providence radio station when I was in 5th grade to request The Hooters’ “And We Danced.” I would lie facedown on my bed, the bedroom window open and the bakery next door starting up again in the early, early morning–and if they played that song on the few nights my ten-year-old self needed to be carried away, I could be nobody. If the world will reflect what is inside you, can’t you then quietly turn away from the rooftops and pull down the shade and stop yawping?

In later years, I would drive around Attleboro, MA, only able to head home with meek satisfaction and slip into bed if the same station would play “Tangled Up in Blue”–without my having requested it. It just had to come on. If the world just knew to do it, I could quit the world that night.

If you asked me tonight where are the snows of yesteryear, I would stop and tilt my head, listening for radio static, radio snow.

Each mortal thing does one thing and the same:
Deals out that being indoors each one dwells;
Selves–goes itself; myself it speaks and spells,
Crying Wh??t I do is me: for that I came.

They are not so bad, blogs–are they? Indoors each one dwells. What I do is me, and if it is also you then I can go back inside now.