Slammed & Split
The Place-Time Conundrum (The Hallmark Holiday Remix)
Download The Place-Time Conundrum as an mp3
It's been
eight months
and 22 days
since we went to dinner
that one time
on not quite a date
because we both knew
you were seeing someone else,
but thought it might be nice
because in another situation, place and time
this could have been right.
So eight months and 22 days later
I'm still wondering why
all I can see
are your eyes.
When I try to close mine
I find that my mind
unwinds
repeated spools
of rapid-fire quick cuts
of your eyes flashing up
in as many different ways
as you looked at me
during the
four months
we worked together
two times a week
and that
one time
we each indulged the other
simply because
it seemed
to make sense.
And I wish I had a film student's vocabulary
or a dictionary handy
cuz I keep feeling compelled
to create a phrase
to describe
this phenomenon
like
"mental motion capture,"
or "cliptography,"
or "moment making imagery"
or ... something else
that just doesn't exist at all
and sometimes,
I think I should call.
But Facebook AND MySpace
each say,
you're "In a Relationship"
and that is just NOT
some shit
to be trifled with.
So I settle for dropping in
when someone I know is working with you
and I can use that relationship
to make it seem less weird
that I'm there
to see you.
We fall back into old rhythms
and I remember
to syn-co-pate
the pauses ...
so the person I'm playing
doesn't miss a beat of friendship
even though the symphony I'm conducting
features you
solo.
And I once read somewhere
that there's an 80 percent chance
that by the time you've graduated college
you've met the person you're going to marry.
And then I met you and thought,
"Fuck -- I hope I'm in that 20 percent."
Which is completely irrational
and not even a thought I'm okay with at all,
but God damn it, it happened
and it's too late to take back,
especially now that it's written in black.
But the fact is
there's some reason you're sticking;
these
thoughts in my mind
not the sensible kind,
just a
hunch in the gut
that
never settles to die.
Finding out you're dating,
it
raises a fire to
step my date game up —
In
short, I'm inspired
to be a better person
while
I'm spinning my tires,
though you
make me hydroplane
You got me
fishtailing across lanes
at
the thought in my brain
of you flopping and flailing
like
you're out of water
cuz I'm drinking you
like
I'm out of water
and you're the oasis
for
this dating disorder.
I'll fillet you with my tongue.
Well,
kinda and sorta —
force your spine to quiver,
turn
your body to jelly,
get you past the point
you can
hold back the yelling,
spelling the end
of
my time in this dwelling
cuz I got this neighbor
who
wakes up mad early,
and I don't care if
she wakes up that early.
So I'ma keep going
til
your throat it starts hurting
spurting the high notes and
oozing out
the lower ones
one
*GASP*
breath
*GASP*
at a time.
*SIGH*
And anyone I've seen since
just doesn't seem to make sense
and I don't think that changes
until the chase ends
cuz you're caught in someone's sworn engagements.
So just let these boys rent
until this man can move in.
My heart ain't unlatchin' for any other action
and I'm gambling
that neither
will yours.