Someone you love, there’s a feeling you’re circling them all the while, watching out for them, looking over their shoulder; follow them to market, smile when they smile, across from them on the subway train, flickering light, blink when they blink, in the rolling uneven snaking through the city substreets. Thoughtful to your thinking, cry when you cry. Someone loves you, there’s a feeling they’re circling you all the while.
Maybe in 2016 we can put our Beats headphones on and drown out the world. Maybe someone will hit us over the head and we will fall in a snow bank. Maybe we will wake up and have a whole different take on life, seeing remarkable visions and offering to pump gas for people at filling stations. Maybe we will fall in love with the first person we see, and ignore all the subsequent restraining orders. Maybe we will get confused and our cell phone won’t be able to get us out of it. Maybe our confusion will lead us home, in a roundabout way, and we will recall 2015 like it was a long, long time ago. Maybe we will have our records expunged and our CDs sponged, and become honorary members of our households. Maybe we will get edged out by all the millenials, and feel special on the margins; a wide open space about to get marked up. That’s where we get to go and write all our notes, anyway. And when anyone looks back, they will only care about us, they won’t even bother with the mainstream. In twenty seventeen.